


to break thy chains of captivity

by hackercatz (tsunbrownie)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira is Thirsty, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Brief knifeplay, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Come Swallowing, Comeplay, Coming In Pants, Curiosity, Deepthroating, Developing Relationship, Emotional Constipation, Face-Fucking, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Gentle Kissing, Glove Kink, Gunplay, Hair-pulling, Jealousy, Light BDSM, M/M, Marks, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot Collection, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Public Hand Jobs, Public Sex, Riding, Rivalry, Rough Kissing, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Inexperience, Thighfucking, Trampling, bottom!Akechi, cutting up clothes with a knife, domkira agenda prevails, for confidants because they fuck, for every single one of these, for main plot, hand holding, metaverse sex, now with the aquarium scene n the triple date, top!Akira, well. hair messing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23701096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsunbrownie/pseuds/hackercatz
Summary: Persona 5 Royal Justice Confidant except Akira and Goro fuck in every single one of their dates.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 228
Kudos: 1114





	1. rank 1; so you mind if I use this number for anything?

**Author's Note:**

> well. i say every but i'm still not sure how to deal w engine room scene
> 
> written because i've made the joke about the yogurt goro is drinking in rank 6 too many times i have no choice but to write this now smh...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First meeting, misunderstanding.

The touch _lingered_.

Akira should have known better—some TV-famous detective wasn't going to approach him (wouldn't even acknowledge his existence) as a _debate partner_ unless Akechi figured out he is the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Although that wasn't impossible considering he was somehow able to hear Morgana speak, suggesting some Metaverse information, but highly unlikely as he wasn't in prison yet. Although, looking at how prim and proper Akechi Goro projects himself to be, _this_ isn't exactly something he's seen coming either, being propositioned like this. Maybe Akira's reading too much into it. Maybe Akechi's interest in him is truly intellectual or perhaps romantic, but who the fuck quotes _Hegel_ out of all people in a first meeting? 

"If it's alright with you, would you continue sharing your thoughts with me?" Akechi enquires with a bright smile.

Akira bites back the _I'll do more than share my thoughts with you_ and shrugs with his usual flat poker face, "I'd love to." At the least, Akechi's the part of the police. There's a good chance he could chew some useful information out of him if they don't find themselves falling to bed, although he'd be a little disappointed—with all the Phantom Thievery and the life-threatening events that's been happening around him the past two months, he could really use somewhere to destress.

"Ah, we should exchange contact info," Akechi flips out his phone, and so does Akira. The screen's sadly too far away for him to notice the Metaverse app, and before the detective notices his oddities he retrieves his own phone from the pockets. "... And, registered."

Akira's stomach does a flip as his eyes meet the dignified detective casually running his index down his screen. Before, he's never cared Akechi even when his name was mentioned along the subway or in classrooms because cops are not his type no matter how cute, but _fuck_ if he isn't attractive. The boy could be a model not a detective with those shoulder-length silky auburn locks, his carefully chiseled features and those ruby orbs that sit in the center of the warm smile.

Akira has always thought, fuck cops. But with Akechi: _fuck_ cops.

"So, you mind if I use this number for... anything?" Akira lets his voice drop to a seductive rumble, closing the space between the two of them but leaving about a forearm's width because they're still in the center of a TV studio and the last thing Akechi wants or needs is a homosexual sex scandal.

Akechi blinks curiously, completely oblivious—or at least seeming so. "Like what?"

Huh. Akira's eyes narrow, the guy may have unconsciously caressed his hands, or maybe he does all his handshakes like that, gloved finger softly rubbing over the palm. Yet Akira's a Phantom Thief, and he knows a little risk is necessary to attain the treasure, and Akechi Goro's ass is a treasure. That's why he lifts his hand up, carefully wrapping his right over Akechi's gloved left, slipping a digit into the gloves to press against his pulse point bewitchingly. In a low voice he seductively whispers, "I think it'd be better to give a demonstration. Have anywhere private we can go to? We could go to the restroom, but well..."

The Detective Prince goes completely red in the face. So either he really meant debating as debating, or he's a really good actor. Akira doesn't know him well enough to read him right—a part of him knows there's something more fundamental than that, there's a thick fog clouding his character judgement goggles—to decide on the either, but he bets Mona that it's both of them.

Ah, Mona. He drops the bag with a plop to the side, and hisses in a low voice that only can be heard to the cat, "run off to Ann and Ryuji and tell them I have some business to wrap up. Don't talk back, Akechi can hear you." Then immediately, he turns over to give the detective a wink. "So?" Akira smirks, rocking on his heels and keeping his eyes fixed to Akechi's own crimson. "Wanna see?"

The brunette surprisingly doesn't avoid it, a strange fire burning in those orbs, and nods with interest. "I have a room since I appear on talk shows frequently. Nobody should bother us since I've finished my schedule for the day."

Akechi's waiting room is spacious, has two mirrors and a sofa, which means the place is a hotel compared to his own dusty and cluttered attic. Akira smirks as he watches Akechi turn the lock so they won't be interrupted. Neither of them doesn't sit, just hovers in the area between the sofa and the door, Akira closer to the exit than the detective.

Akira can't keep the question boiling inside him suppressed well enough, and it escapes him like how steam escapes a pressurized rice cooker. "So you do this kind of thing often, bringing anyone with a pretty face for a secret rendezvous behind the scenes?" 

"I wouldn't call your face particularly _pretty_ , Kurusu-kun," Akechi states, rocking back on his heels, observing him. "You seem horribly ordinary, although you seem to have that _something_ I cannot quite pinpoint. And no, I've never done this kind of thing... before."

Huh. "By that, are you meaning you haven't had anyone before, or you haven't done this with strangers?"

At Akira's straightforward question, Akechi's face tints to a pretty shade of pink. "A-Ah, the prior, I'm afraid. I don't usually get to talk with peers of my own age, so..."

Akira remembers the way how Akechi's hand stuttered in their first handshake, how he clung a bit too hard to be platonic and separated with mild disappointment. "So I was just imagining that first handshake?"

"Ah. That. That was just wistful thinking," Akechi blushes heavier, avoiding his eyes.

"Oh, so that _was_ intentional? Naughty boy," Akira smirks. The flush on the detective's face only dips to a darker and deeper hue of crimson at the words. _Has a degradation kink too, apparently_. This day somehow is gradually improving for Akira more and more every second, a part of him feels like he's trapped in an infinitely pleasing fever dream.

"Now that we're in private, do you mind starting the _demonstration_?" Akechi wraps his tongue around the word obscenely, like he's saying a naughty word. Akira bites the inside of his mouth to suppress the tremor from traversing through his body.

Akira was really hoping to get to anal, but if Akechi's completely inexperienced, he decides that it'd be better to stick with something that he can do without any help from the brunette—they don't have proper lube anyways, and Akechi seems like the type of fastidious person who'd be against using relax gel for sex. Signalling to the bed, he commands gently, "alright, sit down."

With a gentle shiver, the detective obeys, taking soft steps and taking his place on the sofa, eyes alight with curiosity. As he does, Akira takes bold steps and kneels between his legs, running his fingers deftly down Akechi's inner thighs and lips twitching upwards at how the skin under him trembles in anticipation. "Relax," Akira whispers before going for the belt buckle, "I'll do all the work this time."

"Y-You seem quite experienced at this. Have _you_ done this with someone before?" Akechi questions, surprisingly not coming out to be judgmental but merely curious. Akira signals the detective to scoot up so he can pull his pants down, and the boy complies without words. 

Akira shrugs and replies back nonchalantly, "just with girlfriends and boyfriends. Haven't had time for them when I had to relocate to Tokyo, though." Once the trousers are pooling around Akechi's legs, there's only the thin layer of Akechi's boxers in his way, his half-hard bulge showing through the fabric. He presses against it just to hear his partner suppress a moan. "I only was able to be bold because I thought you were propositioning me first. I don't exactly do this kind of thing with strangers too, I'm just a high school kid..."

"I'm really hoping we become something more than strangers, personally," Akechi bites his lips as Akira draws the cock and licks a stripe up the shaft, "your counterarguments we— _Ah!—_ were very interesting, and it is what I caught my interest, after all. I'd like to see you around more."

"With or without sex?" Akira smirks as he grazes his teeth against the crown, taking the way how Akechi's body trembles against him as a victory.

"I'm certainly not against the sex," Akechi barely chokes out between the moans and the gasps as Akira properly takes him into the mouth and starts sucking, fondling his balls with one hand and rubbing the rest of Akechi's cock. "You make a very, _very_ good argument in your favor, Kurusu-kun."

Akechi's cock isn't any bigger than any he's taken before even at full mast, so Akira swallows experimentally, realizing that he can take it without triggering his gag reflex badly. Akechi's needy moans driving him forward, fits the head in the tight passage then draws it out completely, lolling the head around in his mouth, repeats the process a few times to set a rhythm. The brunette just watches the progress with divine fascination and desperation, unable to even pull Akira's hair, just patting it softly while offering a mix of soft praises and prayers. It's frankly adorable, and almost enough to erase the fact that this is the boy who could hear Morgana speak. _Almost—_ something in Akira says this is important, that he can't ever forget this.

"C-Close, I'm close," Akechi pants, and Akira flicks his eyes up to see him completely flustered and his lips reddened from all the biting. Despite Akechi's gloved fingers trying to pry him off his dick, Akira flicks them away with a gentle push and shoots him a cocksure look. The detective's pupils are blown open now, little whimpers escaping from his agape lips, and that sight makes the bitter and sour taste of Akechi's come filling up his mouth worth it.

Akira winks as he rises from his place on the floor, rising to full height and staring down at the detective reduced to a panting, huffing mess. "So, what do you think?"

" _Oh,_ " Akechi lets out quick rabbit-breaths trying to get back his breathing, "you've _definitely_ convinced me."

_Victory_. Akira keeps the joyous emotions stuffed inside of him, keeping his face slightly playful while walking towards the door. Throwing his head to meet the detective still sprawled on the desk in the eye, he gives a devilish, confident grin. "Then I'll call you later on, Akechi."

"I'll text you first!" Akechi calls to him as he takes his gracious exit, and Akira lets his expression break out to a full-out smile for once.


	2. rank 2; i've had to bear through watching you bend yourself over the billiard table for an hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick rendezvous in a discreet alley after the billiards game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short n quick update between writing my big monster! 
> 
> unbeta'd, written in an hour, not that kinky but. hope u enjoy nonethless q/

"At least I have _something_ I can best you on, Kurusu-kun. It's only fair considering I am your senior." 

The last hour has flown past Akira with a daze, after Akechi has invited him out to Penguin Sniper to play billiards together. What he got from their time together while playing the game was that Akira lost (bad) Akira lost while Akechi was playing with his non-dominant hand (really bad, frankly embarrassing) but noticed the fact that the detective was playing with his non-dominant hand (good, really good, it led to their rank up.) 

Despite everything, he doesn't like the smug look on Akechi's face, and he can't help himself from grumbling. "I never played billiard game in my life until today."

Akechi counters him easily, smiling leisurely. "Mm. That means we're both teaching each other something we've never done before, isn't that great?"

Akira takes a quick scan around the street. Even though the sun has long sent, night Kichijoji still runs bright, the fading light leaking from signs and windows atmospherically illuminating the concrete and the brick walls. Unfortunately for Akira, it means he can't force Akechi up against a convenient wall, so he grabs the other boy by the wrist and pulls him towards the residential area.

"Kurusu-kun, where are we going?"

"Somewhere with less people," Akira hisses as he pulls Akechi into a discreet alley, "I'm assuming you don't want the photos of your homosexual rendezvous as the front page news tomorrow."

The detective smiles back modestly. It's darker between the mansions, but there's just enough light from the streetlamps to accentuate his fevered crimson eyes. "I indeed do not, thank you for being considerate. Are you going to _teach_ me now?"

"Yeah, I guess," Akira brings Akechi against a wall, and leans up to him. "I'd like to kiss you now," his voice comes out breathless.

Akechi nods once, closes their space together until their lips meet chastely. It's less a kiss and more of a gentle touch of each others' lips. The brunette's eyes gleam like the stars of the night sky, and Akira can't help himself from grabbing Akechi by the neck to pull him closer, turning such an innocent nudge into an indecent, seductive kiss. They kiss until they're breathless and have to separate, after Akira prods his tongue into Akechi's prone orifice and explore every inch of his mouth, Akechi shyly rubbing his own into Akira's.

Akechi rubs his reddened lips. They've turned as blood red as his eyes, it's pretty. Akira makes a little nip against it as they separate, enjoying how Akechi trembles against the wall. Once they both catch their breaths, they lean together simultaneously and when they kiss again Akechi's tongue is more firm as it pushes against Akira's own—he's a fast learner, as much as Akira is, and he reaps the benefits by kissing him easily, talentedly.

Then Akira pushes his entire body forward until their chests are meeting and their legs are slotted between each other. With their position like this, they can grind their clothed cock against each other, and with how feverish the kiss has been, both of them groan even with the interrupted contact.

"You're already hard," Akechi pants breathlessly as he ruts against Akira. "We've barely done anything."

"I've had to bear through watching you bend yourself over the billiard table for an hour," Akira huffs out a laugh as he drags his own clothed cock against Akechi's. To make his point, he takes his hand and gropes Akechi's ass. "I've barely been able to focus on the game."

"Y-You can fuck me if you want, Kurusu-kun," Akechi whispers against his lips, face sanguine as his eyes close in ecstasy at a pointed push of Akira's hips. "That's what you want to do, isn't it?"

It's very sweet of Akechi to offer, and it hurts to, but Akira shakes his head as he nips the other teen's collarbones—just enough so it wouldn't leave marks the day after. "No lube or condoms, not to mention you'd be way too tight to take my cock. This is enough for now."

"Mm," his eyes flutter open to a half-lidded gaze, "if you believe so. Maybe the day you win against me in a billiards game, I'll let you properly fuck me."

Akira shuts his eyes close tightly, feeling his orgasm approach. "I'm not sure I can wait that long, Akechi."

"Th-then you should improve your billiards skills," the brunette growls against Akira's neck, "I want a proper rival to match up to me. If you don't have skills then maybe you don't _deserve_ to fuck me against the alley wall, Kurusu-kun." 

Despite the darkness, his sight completely whitens out when he reaches completion, making a mess in his dress pants. Satisfyingly, Akechi follows him almost immediately after, coming with a loud groan and a bodily shudder, collapsing against the wall after the orgasm.

They stay together for a while, breath synced up and relying on each other to continue standing. But the mess in the pants start to feel uncomfortable so they separate, undoing their belts to rub away the stains and clean themselves the best as they can with Akechi's collection of handkerchief and tissues.

"Despite the mess, that was very enjoyable, I believe," Akechi replies with a smirk and Akira nods back in agreement, and they trot back together towards the station, a bit too far apart to be lovers but too close to be platonic.


	3. rank 3; if i was unassuming, perhaps maybe if i had glasses like you, i could...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coffee date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 0\. canon divergence - the coffee date table has sheets  
> 1\. canon said goro is an akiren simp  
> 2\. they fuck during the link in this one, not after or before, so a lot of the quotes for this one is literal. but it was too legendary as it was, i couldn't find it in my heart twist it too much. enjoy!

"Come here often?"

Akechi chuckles at Akira's frankly embarrassing attempt at flirting. "No, I don't. The cake here is fairly popular, so I've been meaning to try it for a while. While I don't dislike sweets, I'm not exactly partial to them, you see..."

"That's a shame," Akira smirks mischievously, "I can be sweet for you if you want, _Akechi-kun_."

Akechi's cheeks tint up at the implications, but he doesn't back down, replying back with a chipper, "no, thank you. I think you're fine the way you are."

"You into bad boys, detective? I haven't taken you to be that kind of type."

Akechi laughs heartily at Akira's words. "I wouldn't particularly call you a bad boy, Kurusu-kun. A bit strange and intriguing, but not in any way _bad_. Misunderstood, perhaps?" He murmurs to himself thoughtfully, then waves over the cakes and drinks in front of them. "Well, now. Before the coffee turns cold, why don't we give this a try?"

They eat in relative silence in the beginning, talking in short bursts about their lives and their interests in between, but somehow their harmless conversation devolves into a proper debate about vigilante justice along the way. Midst the conversation the cake gets forgotten, the two of them too involved in their argument to care about hardly anything else—and for Akira, he gets _extra_ distracted from his own food at the sight of Akechi sensually licks over the line of the fork, sensually dabbing away bits of white cream with his tongue. Even when there is no more of the food left on the dish, the brunette keeps the cutlery between his teeth and curls around the steel, showing Akira the tempting pink between the reddened lips.

It's a miracle that Akira doesn't lose the argument, that their talk concludes with a stalemate rather than his loss.

"Mm, it was delicious after all..." Akechi murmurs after carefully setting down the fork. "I actually enjoyed that more than I thought I would."

Akira doesn't particularly remember the taste of the cake, but he shares the sentiment wholly. Fuck, He's already hard in the pants—Akira has never considered himself a sexually active person before the last few weeks, until he met Akechi and impetuously blew him in the TV station. Akira's about to open his mouth to suggest that they move when someone beats him to him to his right:

"Hey, look, isn't that him?"

"Oh, you mean the guy who's on TV these days... Who was he again?"

"Wasn't his name Akechi-kun? You know, the next-generation Detective Prince?"

"Should we ask him for an autograph? Might be something worth bragging about..."

Akechi uncomfortably retracts into himself as he mutters, "ah, looks like I've been spotted."

The resignation in the detective's body triggers something in Akira, he hasn't done anything wrong—he feels like he's looking at himself surrounded by horrible rumors at the halls of Shujin on his first day, although for Akechi the problem seems to be the polar opposite. It doesn't mean that it's still revolting, people making judgement about you without even bothering to know about you because they heard few rumors about you. "I can shoo them away, if you'd like."

"Haha, I don't think that'd work out well. I have a public image to maintain after all," Akechi brushes him away, but as more people gather around him forming a crowd, his shoulders droop down in disappointment. "Looks like I'm out of time. I wish I could've relaxed a little longer, though. We should go."

"You haven't done anything wrong," Akira insists.

The detective shakes his head, hiding his disappointment well but not well enough. "Sorry, but if I stay here, I'm only going to cause problems. It'd be best to leave. If I was unassuming, perhaps maybe if I had glasses like you, I could..."

Akira gets an idea to disperse the crowd and get his satisfaction at the same time—two birds with one stone. With intention, Akira grins knowingly, "we just gotta make them think they're not you, then?"

"H-huh? Wait, Kurusu-kun, wait, what are you doing!?"

Before Akechi can stop him, Akira rises from his seat and crosses to the other side of the table, tilting the brunette's head up by the chin and kissing him right on the lips. Akechi squeaks, freezing against Akira's lips for a second but kisses back with all of his newly-learned talents instantly after, clutching to Akira's ties. As they kiss, Akira takes his hand and drags them into the softness of Akechi's curls, pulling and twisting against them to dishevel the meticulously flattened locks. 

"Hey, they just kissed. Are you sure that was Akechi-kun?"

"Now that I think about it, the hair seems to be a bit too long to be the guy on TV... Maybe it's a girl who just looked like him?" 

"Most of the time, people jumping to conclusions is annoying, but if you manipulate it well enough there are circumstances where we can use it for our favors," Akira murmurs against the detective's lips, licking his tongue to swipe some crumbs at the corner of there. Yet the kiss wasn't enough to completely deter away the curious looks of passerby, so he yanks Akechi by the hair close to him and urges, "get under the covers."

Akechi's voice is disbelieving as he hisses back urgently, "you want to do that _now_?" 

"Yes, we're doing it now. We need to throw them off, and what better way is there to distract them other than for you to suck me off and get come all over your face? It's so unprincely, they'll never think they even saw you."

Now that the kiss is over, people are whispering among themselves, and Akechi grumbles for a moment before sighing and slipping under the covers. Pleased, Akira steps around the table to sink back into his chair, waiting for the detective to crawl forward and take place between his thighs.

Akechi's eyes widen once he bumps into the bulge while squirming between there to make himself comfortable, and he whispers dubiously, "are you already _hard_? Again?"

"Yeah, you were licking your fork during the _entire_ argument," Akira bites in a moan as Akechi experimentally pushes down against Akira's hard-on. "It was very hard to concentrate on your argument or on my counterargument." Not that it's easy to do anything with Akechi around; whether it's his mouth or his ass or his general attitude, Akira finds himself losing the sharp-witted tongue because all of his blood instantly rushes to his dick.

The brunette hums warmly while he nuzzles Akira's thighs. "Yet you still didn't lose. How impressive, Akira-kun, you do deserve a little reward for that," then Akechi hungrily goes for Akira's belts, undoing the buckle and drawing his cock into the warm spring air. The detective takes the heated flesh between his gloved hands, making soft sounds as he curiously observes and rubs the sides. "Forgive me if I'm not very good. This is my first time touching a dick that's not my own."

"Please, you could just look me in a way right now and I'd just come all over your face," Akira groans as Akechi experimentally pumps his cock then licks at the precome sliding down his cock.

After running the taste in his mouth, Akechi swallows eventually, murmuring, "it doesn't taste completely repulsive," then licks a stripe up Akira's cock following the line of the veins.

"It's an acquired taste."

Akechi's hot breath hits his cock when the detective chuckles softly, and Akira shudders hard, trapped under the kneeling teen's ministrations. "And you're hoping I'll acquire it with _you_ , I'm assuming."

"Just hoping," his eyes flutter shut as Akechi properly tastes him, taking the head into his mouth and curling his tongue around it—just like he's done with the fork. The back of Akira's head hits the steel of his chair and he slides his hands down to grasp at the messy locks, making them even more chaotic by running his fingers through them. "Tuck the teeth behind your lips and try licking if you can't suck," Akira breathe out, and although Akechi twitches offhandedly at the given advice, he follows them, tonguing the side of Akira's cock as he takes a bit more of the shaft. 

The detective temporarily removes the head as from his mouth as he parts away with a regretful lick, instead bringing his index to play with the slit as he lowers his head to kiss down the shaft, taking each of his heavy balls into his orifice, lathering each of them with spit and attention before moving to the next one. The pair of hands and lips latched onto his cock may not be perfect skill-wise, but the enthusiasm and the focus Akechi devotes brings him closer to the brink nonetheless.

"You're, you're doing amazing," Akira gives a wobbly grin and a trapped moan as he uses his right hand to pat down the brunette's head.

Akechi's sharp crimson eyes are half-lidded as he continues the fellatio at his own pace, Akira's hands tightly hanging onto the hairs but in no way demanding nor forceful. Akechi tries to swallow him down once, but upon Akira's cock pushing through Akechi's throat he gags horribly, having to pull out and focus his attention around the head instead. Akira can't find the energy to complain when Akechi's nimble leather-clad fingers travel shower the rest of his shaft and his sacks with attention, the index trailing down following the vein then using both his fists to provide a tight space for Akira to fuck into. He hums when Akira takes his head and slams down until the head of Akira's cock is brushing against his uvula, looks up with wide, desperate eyes.

"Oh fuck, I'm close, let me get the tissue—" Akira grabs the pile of napkins on their trays but Akechi doesn't relent his grip, tightening his grip punishingly and sucking and licking hard until Akira spills with a, "wait, but, you—"

Akechi has the expression of a content cat as he cocks his head, showing off his come-covered face proudly. "What? You were the one who suggested it."

"Yes, but I didn't think that," Akira's breath freezes as Akechi wipes away a stray drop and brings it into his mouth, and his cock jumps to the sight, "that you'd actually want to do it."

Akira and Akechi clean themselves up to the best degree abusing the amount of tissues Akira's brought to the table, wiping down and rubbing the best they can. At least they do achieve their goals: Akechi's been reduced to a completely disheveled sight that wouldn't be mistaken as the idol detective gracing the TV, with his lips bruised bright crimson and rumpled hair with specks of come still trapped between them. He replies back to Akira with a thoroughly devilish grin, "maybe you shouldn't make haste judgement about me either, Kurusu-kun."

"Lesson learned," Akira mutters begrudgingly, then observes Akechi's new look while he finally rises from his place on the floor, dusts away the flecks on his pants, then takes his seat once again. Driven by sudden inspiration, he removes his glasses and snaps them carefully on the detective's face, leaning back to observe his masterpiece.

Akechi merely grunts, looking him up behind those lenses in confusion. "You didn't forget that, huh."

"I could never forget anything that comes out of those lips," Akira winks.

The detective merely groans, running his fingers in his hair, trying to calm them now that the crowd has moved away, deeming that he was not the detective prince. "I can't believe you _actually_ did that. Out in public, too! We could have been found out."

"It worked, didn't I? You said you wanted to seem unassuming, I made you seem unassuming. Sad that I couldn't take a picture, I could have masturbated to that for _days_..."

"Out of the question," Akechi snaps back, completely mortified. "I guess I should watch what I say around you. Yet... I can't believe people actually fell for that, when I've merely messed up my hair a bit. There's no knowing how things will go until you give it a try, hm? How interesting."

"Yeah. I didn't know you'd be good at something like _that_ ," Akira murmurs breathlessly. "Although there are some ways you could improve it."

Akechi's eyes twinkle brightly at the compliment, lips twitching upwards to a smile as he smugly leans back to his chair. "Oh, is that so? I'd like to hear about it in detail—I'm aware there's always room for improvement. Looks our coffee's gone cold, why don't we order new ones?"

Akira nods, and the sun sets behind them as they delve back into conversation once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still not Sure if i'm gonna write the aquarium+triple date scenes personally, but if i do the number for this will get kicked up by 2 at next chapter update ! q/
> 
> edit 4/27/20: edited... an incomplete sentence... i hate my brain


	4. rank 4; focus on the music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira is invited to Akechi's haven and Akira soils his memories of it. Or does he make them better?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> important announcement: this fic has gotten even longer with the addition of the triple date scene (next chapter) and the aquarium date chapter (next next chapter) . sadly this means the Goro Anal is getting pushed back a few more chapters but hopefully it'd be worth it when it comes.......  
> also: thanks for everyone who's read the fic and left kudos and comments until now ur interactions are what drives me forward and continue writing this!!! hopefully this energy will last until the Ending
> 
> kurusu akira stop getting a boner while watching akechi 2k20. the thirst this boy HAS

"It's a disappointment this place doesn't sell alcohol to us," Akira whispers to Goro. "I've always wanted to try out drinking."

Akechi laughs broadly enough that it reaches his eyes. "Just wait a few more years, and you'll get to your heart's content."

Without replying, Akira sips on the purple cocktail he had been given: it tastes alright, just a tad bit too sweet for him. He knows they're not here for the drinks, with the music enveloping around him—atmospheric and relaxing, he could see why Akechi frequented this jazz bar. There's also that despite the detective sitting right beside there there aren't any unwanted attention coming their way, most of the fellow patrons of the bar either too busy engaged in their own silent conversations or far too old to be interested in Akechi who was more of a teenage sensation. It's definitely different from their last outing at the cafe which which Akechi prompted apologized for prior to entering the cafe, even when there's no need to apologize as Akira has enjoyed how the day progressed.

As good as the music is, however, Akira is more interested in something else—all of his senses are busy hyperfocusing on the boy sucking gently on his straw and enjoying the concert across from him. Akira can't tear his eyes from Akechi's lips, the way those crimson, shiny lips wrapped around the thin yellow plastic, reminding of how he had looked when he had been on his knees between Akira's thighs, cheeks hollowed out and hands wrapped around the shaft carefully to...

_Fuck_. Akira feels his hard-on strain painfully against the fabric. _Three times in a row._ This is frankly embarrassing.

The detective, oblivious of the effect he is having on the Phantom Thief, lets his eyes flutter shut, entirely engaged in the music. He's so relaxed that Akira knows on instinct that it'll take a while for them to get out of here.

That only leaves him one option. He drags his chair closer to Akechi's until they're almost touching, carefully so the detective's enjoyment wouldn't be broken by the sound of the dragging. Then, without any warning whatsoever, Akira lands his his left hand on the detective's thigh.

The detective's eyes fly open, finding Akira's own in utter confusion. Akira only winks back at him mischievously, teasing the sensitive skin through the denim.

"Kurusu-kun—" Akechi breathes out in a low voice that is barely audible, taking a hasty sip of the drink to hide his quickly reddening face. He chokes a little when Akira drags his nail hard enough that it'd be felt even through the layers separating him from the skin.

"Focus on the music," Akira whispers as his fingers slowly but inexorably trail upwards, towards the hip. "Or someone may figure out what we're doing and kick us out, _detective_. I think that'd be quite unfortunate, since you seem to like this place so much. Eyes forward."

Shivering, Akechi concedes and shifts his eye so he's locked at the performer. Pleased, Akira goes for the belt, leisurely undoing the clasps for both his and Akechi's. Thanks to the low light and the distance between the table, he doubts anyone could see them despite being out in the open, and with this information he tentatively pulls Akechi's cock out into the cool air of the shop, eliciting a quick inhale from the strained detective.

The brunette's leather-freed hands are carefully settled on the top of another, strikingly still. The glass has been emptied and placed away from Akechi, at least an arm's length distanced. When Akira takes a proper grip of the cock, tightening his fist and sliding downward, those hands hesitate and they drag into each other. Encouraged by the crack in the detective's behavior, he swipes across the head to collect the gathered precome so he can slide his hand over the shaft more fluidly, boldly moving his left to play with the head and his balls midst the handjob. Akechi surprisingly doesn't make a sound, although he's biting his lips so hard that Akira's sure there would be a mark there in the morning.

When Akira plays with the slit, pressing his finger into it, Akechi finally makes a sound—a high pitched squeak—despite his insistence not to. "Silence," Akira shushes him the moment it comes as if he hasn't done it purposefully to elicit Akechi's weakness, then before he can reply, he tightens his slick hand and pulls from head to base, effectively quelling the other teen's argument before it is even born.

Akira speeds up, watching the bewitching sight of Akechi's control slowly devolving as he snaps his wrist faster, faster, _faster_. He makes it rougher, too, tightening his fist to where it'd hurt, then slamming down hard against his hips, the back of his hands hitting Akechi's balls. It doesn't take Akechi to come like this, in Akira's lips, looking absolutely delectable—lips laden with teeth marks and bloodshot red, his fingernails digging harshly into his own skin that it's drawing blood. Akira tries to gather all the drops best as he can, and he succeeds, only a few drops sliding down the side of his hands and leaving a wet drop on his pants.

Akira brings forward his cum slick hand to drink it down, sucking his finger pad for extra emphasis. "The drink's a bit too sweet for my tastes, so this is a nice contrast," he smirks devilishly, licking a long stripe across his palms then taking his index into the mouth, lolling the digit in his mouth lazily. Akechi trembles across him at the sight, eyes turning uncharacteristically, dangerously sharp at the sight.

"Fuck," Akechi pants open-mouthed, mind still hazy from his orgasm. " _Fuck._ "

"Good one?" Akira smirks knowingly, and Akechi merely breathes out, nodding tiredly.

"I'm... certainly more relaxed, and I'm sure that's more than the music," the detective smiles back at them, and slides his own hands down towards Akira's open pants. "Need a hand?"

"I'm so close, I wouldn't last long," and true to his word, it only takes two strokes for him to spill all over Akechi's hands, the two of them having matching stains over their hands. Akechi takes out a handkerchief to wipe out his hands, and Akira grabs a box of tissues from his bag to clean himself up.

Once they're decent again, they settle back into their respectable chairs, pants refastened and meticulous. Except a little flush on Akechi's face and the bite marks on his lips he's returned to his meticulous detective prince self, and Akira himself has returned to his blank-faced self. His heart beats painfully hard in his heart, only now realizing the consequences of what they've done with the orgasm watching over him—but they got away with it, didn't they?

"Public indecency is a crime," Akechi states flatly far too late.

Akira shrugs. "It's not a crime if you don't get caught."

"Is that why you side with the Phantom Thieves? They work with an MO that nobody can possibly understand," the detective shakes his head in vain, then looks up to realize that the singer has already exited left. "I don't remember anything of the recital," Akechi murmurs, face pouting. "I really do like the live performances here..."

"That just means you have to invite me again," Akira winks, and Akechi smiles fondly back at him. That smile makes him feel like he's stolen something precious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> turns out. i can write a 9 person orgy but not a proper handjob. this took me like 3 hours 
> 
> also: my midterms and deadlines are all creeping forward trying to suplex me... because not even the quarantine can stop professors from making my life as painful as possible... so next chapter may take a little while (or ridiculously soon, no midpoint tbh.) wish me luck! ovo


	5. 7/11: you know that I'm not fucking her, right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A good relationship comes from communication! If they're not talking about their respectable secrets, they may as well talk about kinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea how to write interesting and creative porn so have some emotional constipation instead!
> 
> working title "lokikechi slides out between his jealousy, akira thinks it's hot " .

"This is new," Akira groans as he finds himself slammed against a wall in a sparsely traversed alley. "I don't think I've seen you this enthusiastic for a quick fuck before." 

"I can change my mind," Akechi hisses against their conjoined lips before dipping his head to devour the raven's mouth again. Akechi tastes faintly of coffee and sweets and with an indescribable kick he can't particularly explain. Confused but not complaining Akira lets the other teen into his mouth when he starts probing with his tongue, reaping the benefits of the detective's much improved kissing skills and enjoying how the opposing brunette kisses like himself, albeit with too much fury and fire. 

"Hey, what's the problem today?" He asks once they separate for breathing and Akechi lunges at Akira's belt, undoing the clasps so fast Akira's belts make a loud clang. "You have something to say, Akechi?"

" _'Your drink's just as hot, Akechi'_ , Akechi mimics his own low rumble surprisingly accurately, but a bit parodying to be completely correct," _'I wish I hadn't learned that...'_? Playing the innocent and harmless senpai for Yoshizawa..." 

Ah, so that's what this is about. "Hey, I _really_ didn't know you were acting so much on television, just because I'm a bit open-minded doesn't mean I know all the set ups behind the media. Just because you're a bit corrupt in some areas doesn't mean you can't be innocent some." Leisurely dominating the incoming kiss, Akira nips against Akechi's bottom lip as they separate, rubbing at the other teen's back gently. "You know that I'm not fucking her, right? You don't have to be jealous." 

Akechi pouts nonetheless, although Akira has a feeling he would deny it vehemently if he ever brought it up. "She likes you. She's completely smitten with you." 

"I'm not looking for a date," Akira shrugs, "no time for something like that, plus the fact that I'm on probation." _Also, there is the fact that the only person I am interested in may be an assassin_. "She's too innocent to grasp the concept of 'friend of benefits', and she doesn't deserve to have her heart broken like that." 

A sharp smile is returned his way as Akechi grazes his nails against the slit. "And I do?" 

"I suggested having sex with you because you'd know about the adult world enough to know that sex doesn't necessarily equate to love," Akira grinds his hips against the hand, earning a shaky shudder. "Felt like you'd understand for some strange reason upon meeting you." 

"I have a good feeling I know what that feels like," Akechi murmurs before immediately falling to his knees. Watching Akechi, the idol that so many girls fantasize about on his knees, furiously rubbing his cheek again Akira's hard-on. "It really doesn't take long for you to get hard, does it? You're a bit of a slut, Kurusu-kun."

"Hey. _You're_ the one who smashed me against the wall."

Akechi, from his place on the floor, tentatively licks against the fabric still covering his cock, raising his eyebrows. "So you get off on something like that?"

Akira lazily plays with the brunette's soft-as-ever locks. _What kind of conditioner does he even use to make this so silky and fluffy?_ "If it's consensual and everyone has fun, why not? I'm open to trying out anything. Even you might enjoy something you might not have expected to."

Akechi looks vaguely disturbed by the concept. "Hmm, I believe I don't have enough experience with this to have a grasp on my sexual deviancy preferences."

"I bet I can guess one of them," he points out with a wide smile. "Just tell me if you don't like it."

The detective silently raises his eyebrows. "You're being so good for me," Akira hums as he presses Akechi's face towards his dick, where there's a wet spot against the fabric now. "Your mouth is so nice, and I can't believe I have that pretty face and talented mouth so close to, Akechi-kun."

The shudder, even at something that is so staged, doesn't go unmissed. Akechi turns redder as he pointedly stares down at Akira's trainers and pulls against the underwear to free Akira's dick. Without giving him a moment of reprieve, the detective dips his head to immediately take the head into his mouth, carefully but more skillfully rolling it in his head. He pumps at it once, taking it deeper and deeper with each movement, and Akira sighs, head against the cool brick wall and both hands carefully placed on the top of the brunette's head, not doing anything, just patting and cooing praises.

"So pretty, so amazing," Akira pants as Akechi takes him deeper with each rumble, half of his cock disappearing into his mouth and the talented leather-clad fingers wrapped skillfully around where he can't reach with his mouth--it has been barely a few months since he even gave a blowjob, so Akira doesn't push, letting the detective lead the pace. He does pick up how better he's gotten from the beginning, both at the kissing and the oral sex. _Maybe he practices?_ "Your mouth, Akechi-kun..."

The detective pushes enough just so the head enters the start of his throat, pulls out, repeats the motion, and unlike in the cafe, he doesn't seem so affected by the gag reflex this time around. The tightness is _something else_ from the wetness only that Akira moans loudly, bites down his lips to shut himself up, they're still not far away enough from the public that he wouldn't attract someone by making a sound. Akechi's tongue licks a long stripe up his cock, and Akira throws his glance down to notice Akechi rutting against the rough edges of Akira's feet, a bulge stating that he's clearly being affected by the words. Driven by acknowledgement, Akira lets himself be a slight bit louder, "so talented."

Akechi bobs his head faster and faster, driven by his own hunger and need for appreciation, which Akira continues to offer tacitly, _so fucking good, you're so hot, Akechi, fuck_. Akira, between low-lidded gaze, is hit by a sudden inspiration between the words and how Akechi's behaved after the outing and murmurs, "I want you so much. _You._ "

Akechi chokes on the cock violently upon hearing those words, shuddering hard as swivels violently at that, and Akira can't help himself from stepping down on Akechi's cock violently, feeling the spurts against the sole of his shoes. Akira doesn't take so long to follow, spurting his own ejaculation into Akechi's mouth, which to his surprise, Akechi swallows to his best attempt. Some slide down his chin to drip down despite his endeavor.

"Fuck," Akechi curses as he brings himself up, still shaking dangerously on his feet. Akira catches him in his arms and leans on the wall standing tall behind him, and the two of them catches their breath, every part of their limbs pressing against each other. 

"So, what did you think about that?" Akechi whimpers against his neck, hazily staring back at Akira. "I'll take that as a positive, then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways MIDTERMS WEEK /and/ deadlines week so after this quick insert i may have to kill everything... which may take another week! help me. will TRY to update once in between but. if i disappear for 10 days please help me


	6. 7/29: what are we?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aquarium date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after reading like 100 pharm/chem/physio thesis papers i've decided that i hate drugs 
> 
> so have a bit more of pouty goro

"Why did you ask me _here_?"

The detective shrugs, smirking as he chirps back, "because you always look so free? Just joking, just joking." He smirks as he turns back to the silver fish trailing in schools.

What he's read about the aquarium, and what Morgana had nuanced about two people going there... The place certainly feels like a date spot, especially seeing seldom fellow attendees other couples with their hands closely linked together, mind engaged in their own kaleidoscopic worlds. He wonders if this is because of some remnant jealousy from their last outing, Akechi still being upset about his relationship with Kasumi. Akira belatedly realizes, they've never talked and negotiated on this front, have they? He's automatically assumed that Akechi wanted some experience under his belt on this field because he's shown absolutely no romantic interest in him—why in the world would the detective prince adored by the whole of Tokyo care for Akira beyond for his body, after all—but if he's been assuming faultily all along...

A thought has been bothering Akira for a while, and he decides to go for it and ask if Akechi's in a good enough mood to joke around despite how their last outing went. "Did you _really_ get these tickets from a coworker?"

A pointed, agitated look. "Of course I have. Why in the world would I lie about _that_?"

Akechi looks like he's still hiding something, observing the silver fish that flows past them. The azure lights reflect off him, making him seem even more paler than he usually is. " _Really_?"

Akira can't see the brunette's face with him facing the wall-sized tanks. He starts again after a stagnant pause, "... Sae-san might have seen me down for a while."

"Attaboy," Akira grins, patting him down. Akechi seems far too tight, though. He doesn't like it, seeing him so uncomfortable. "Now I know who to thank."

"This isn't a date," Akechi grunts, shoving his bare hands into the pockets. "This is... I don't know what this is, but it's not a date."

"I'm hoping it is one," Akira smirks and shoves his hands into Akechi's pockets, brushing against the long fingers as he laces them together with his own. Somehow this feels more intimate than everything they've done until now. "I mean, I'm not really up for the whole boyfriend relationship considering that I'm on probation for just a year and technically _I_ belong to the state," Akira jokes, which Akechi stays stubbornly silent to.

Akira doesn't know how to proceed, he can't read the detective enough. Akechi keeps his expression flattened to a default smile, but Akira knows that's as much a mask as the poker face is to him, which makes Akechi the singlehandedly most difficult confidant for him to see through. It makes the secret fucking fun and all, but when he needs to have a conversation, it doesn't help.

"I don't have time for a boyfriend with my detective work, so no worries on that front," Akechi sighs, finally turning away from the blue to face him, leaning against the cool glass as he stares him down. "It's stupid, forget it. Maybe it's because I haven't had proper friends before, and I'm confusing friendship with infatuation? I'll get over it, Kurusu-kun. I've been a bad host, haven't I? Do you want to know some shocking trivia about sharks?"

Akechi's expression is flattened to that infuriatingly unreadable grin again. They're in the tropical fish and seaweed area, the most boring part of the aquarium, and they've arrived so early that there aren't anyone around. With this information in hand Akira leans forward to kiss Akechi soundly on the lips, non-sexually but still feverishly.

"What if I want some trivia about you?" He murmurs, voice husky.

Akechi lets out a startled laughter. "Like what?"

They're surrounded by the sea, so... "What's your favorite fish?"

The detective hums. "I've always been partial for sharks. The way they constantly have to move to survive. Forced to forward momentum for their entire lives... until the very moment they pass—progression through survival. They're also very misunderstood by people because of the media's skewed representation of them."

God. Akechi is hot when he's passionate—the words barely sink in but the way how his expression flourishes enraptures Akira's heart, and unknowingly to himself he closes the distance again, completely smashing his body over to the detective's to devour his mouth. Akechi immediately capitulates, nail digging into Akira's hand still in the pocket as he kisses back fervently. This time the kissing is inherently sexual, and Akira feels the boiling blood brought forth by Akechi's presence course through him.

The garnet eyes are locked against his own. "What do you want, Akira-kun?" The words, barely a whisper, are breathed out against his own lips. If it hadn't been for the nonexistent distance from them, he would have missed them.

But that's the frustrating thing—he doesn't _know_ what he wants. Akechi is a suspicious individual and a wild card at least, a mental breakdown-inducing serial murderer at worst. He approached and befriended him to gather intel and have some fun in the progress, but Akechi turned the tables on him by being exceptional and breathtaking, and completing Akira in a way that none of his friends and other confidants can. "I want us to be exclusive. No titles, nothing yet until both of us can handle it, until we are comfortable showing all of us to each other, but still exclusive. Is that okay with you, Akechi?"

Akechi hums pleasantly. "It's not a problem for me, you're the only person that I spend time with regularly. But... You'll keep yourself all for me even with all those girls and boys swarming around you, Kurusu-kun?"

He doesn't think any of them can catch his attention when the teen is grinding his hard-on against Akira's knee like that, mouth half-open and panting softly. "I'll manage.

As Akechi loses his belt, he comments curiously, but in no way complaining, "why do you think all of our conversations end in sex?"

_I can't restrain myself around you._ "Our _everything_ ends in sex. That was how our relationship was established in the first place."

The pants are next, forced down along with the underwear to pool against their ankles. Akira smirks as he notices Akechi also half-hard at forced against the surface and roughly having his mouth dominated. _Who's the slut now_?

Akechi makes a curious sound as Akira lines up his cock next to Akechi's own, wrapping his fist over them. They're a bit dry and callous, so the detective pops out a bottle of hand lotion, squeezing a generous amount into both their palms. At Akira's raised eyebrows he smirks, "we've had these _secret meetings_ far too often for me not to be prepared."

Once Akechi's and his non-dominant hands are each wrapped around both their shafts, where they're doing this in hits Akira strongly. "Anyone can walk in on us right now," Akira dazedly murmurs as Akechi wraps his bare hands around their cocks.

Akechi just plays with Akira's bushy hair. "If we hear footsteps, we bolt for it."

"There are pants around our legs, detective," then chokes on his spit as Akechi speeds up his hands, tightening them deliciously as he rubs long and slick, forcing Akira's own to hurry the rhythm.

"Then I suppose we'll have to be fast," he's definitely smirking, and to wipe off that traitorously smarmy expression, Akira kisses him brutally, biting his lips and forcing the mouth open with a firm tongue. Akechi's rhythm over their cocks stumble for a moment, but once he surrenders to Akira's prodding, the hands resume their quick and speedy rubbing.

With all the tightness and the handjob drawing him close to orgasm, it's Akechi drawing back to bite Akira in the lips hard enough to bruise that finally has him ejaculate, making a mess over their hands, and Akechi follows him after with a drawn-out moan. It aches in a way he knows it'll bruise the next morning, and Akechi makes apologetic licks against the wound.

Akira rubs at the mark once they separate. "A bit possessive, aren't you? Isn't a blood pact a bit early for us?" Akechi keeps his eyes fixed against the cut at Akira's lip, clearly disoriented by the sight. _Definitely_ the possessive type, Akira makes a mental note. "Alright, detective, pull your pants up," he snaps his fingers in front of the detective to snap him out of stupor, and starts cleaning up.

When they're finally dressed and decent is when other couples and a group of children rush into their area, led by a woman holding a book—a guide, probably. Akira and Akechi meet each other's eyes guiltily before fleeing from the aquarium, their hands linked together inside of Akechi's left pants pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll DEFINITELY come back to fix the writing for this one it's so... funky and not in a good way. especially the ending


	7. rank 5; are you jerking off to the sound of my voice right now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the arcade, phone sex and kinda-BDSM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternate universe - goro calls you after the shower when you are inside the house 
> 
> honestly rank 5 is just... idk how to even DESCRIBE rank 5. what even. is that. what just. personally think it's very gay of akechi to get point up in all 3 of the options available in that phone call so. 
> 
> goro subs and domkira is hot ! i don't receive constructive criticism.

Akira is _furious_.

Furious doesn't even come close to describing the rage boiling inside of him right now. He doesn't know what game Akechi is playing with him anymore, pulling that off in the arcade with the gun. Akira isn't stupid, Akechi is far too good with a gun for someone who's merely a consultant. He doubts despite his affiliation with the police, Akechi's allowed anywhere around one legally, _really_ doubts he's ever had a chance to pull the trigger even if he has a permit. As a detective, anyways. With the information that Akechi was able to hear Morgana, however...

Is it brazenness? Is it cockiness? Is he trying to figure out if Akira's the leader of the Phantom Thieves? Or is it the other way, does Akechi already know he is, and wants Akira to _know_ that he's behind the breakdown incidents, for whatever reason?

He doesn't know anymore. When it comes to Akechi Goro, he may as well be staring into a pool of opaque slime and trying to figure out what's at the bottom. He groans, throwing the bag across the room since Morgana isn't in it. Collapses on the bed, sighs into the pillows.

His phone rings. It's Akechi.

Breath in, breath out. Flattening his emotions back to his usual nonchalance, he clicks _accept_. "Hey," he murmurs.

"I took that shower," Akechi's voice is silky sweet as always. "I wanted to express my gratitude again for today. Thank you for hanging out with me—I had quite a lot of fun. I don't play these games too often, so I honestly wasn't sure how well I'd do. Hopefully I didn't come off as too much a novice. I wish I'd played better," the detective purrs pleasantly, as if he doesn't really know how to handle a gun and as if he hasn't kicked Akira's ass in the game.

That has to classify as provocation. "You've still got a long way to go," Akira grumbles, just to act petty. He is now ninety percent sure that Akechi is a serial murderer—Black Mask, Madarame has called the assassin—he's pretty sure that makes a bit of pettiness socially acceptable.

Akechi doesn't seem bothered at all. He only sounds happier. "Ever the harsh master, aren't you?"

_Does this mean you consider me your master when we're fucking?_ "Someone has got to be, with how cocky you're being."

"Isn't that a bit too mean? But you're also the type who hates to lose, huh," the brunette murmurs across the line, the grin audible. "A side like that being there in you... I think I like it," he hums.

"I suppose I've always been quick to grasp the fundamentals of everything... but that's also been a concern for me," Akechi makes a low sound, and Akira's mind immediately flies to how quick he's picked up the tricks by mimicking his own actions. "there's this... constant pressure. Everyone expects me to be capable of anything, which is stressful in and of itself."

God, he's _so_ pent up. Akira feels electricity trail down his back. "You don't need to be the perfectly capable Detective Prince around me," Akira croons, letting some steel into his voice. "Put everything down, just let me take care of you."

A moan trails from the other side. "Kurusu-kun," the seductive lull calls out to him, "why didn't we have sex after the game today? It's become a tradition at this point, and I thought it would have been perfect, with the adrenaline running in our veins..."

"You said you were sweaty," Akira snipes back.

"Ha, like you care about that," Akechi pants, tone slightly off. The sentence comes out windy and rushed, reminding Akira of how he speaks when he gets all...

_Wait._

"Are you jerking off to the sound of my voice right now?" Akira questions disbelievingly, instantly feeling all the blood rush to his groin.

"Mm-hmm," Akechi hums out an affirmative, then smirks, "wanna know a secret?"

"Yes, yes, tell me," Akira hisses out in between unbuckling his belt—why did he even wear a fucking belt—his phone tucked between his ear and his shoulders.

"I called a bit late compared than usual because the shower took a little longer," the detective offers softly, then, "because I was cleaning out my ass."

Akira makes an embarrassing sound at the information, his cock getting harder.

"Also, I'm completely naked on the bed right now."

God, he wants to be there right now. He wants to be there _right fucking now_. "One of these days, we're going to fuck on a real bed," Akira breathes out.

"You still have to win against me first," he counters easily. "I think today'll be a preview of what you can get if you win."

"Don't tell me you've fingered yourself open already," Akira growls dangerously.

"Just to clean myself up," Akira can imagine the tiny head shake coming from him, "didn't after. Wanted to do it with you."

Pleased, he murmurs, "Good boy." Akechi lets out a shudder like clockwork. Lying on the bed and messing around so he can hear the phone well and masturbate as well, he finds a comfortable position and once he does, he grips his bare cock and rubs once. Vocalizes the moan loudly so the brunette can hear it. "Just your voice, and I'm already half-hard."

"I can imagine, wanna touch it."

"I want your hands on me too, but that'll have to be for another day. Slick your hand up with lube?"

"I'm done with that, I'm done," Akechi squirms. "What do I do next?"

"Now, take your left hand and start teasing your entrance," Akira commands, and shuts his eyes to imagine Akechi, face down and ass up, the long elegant finger pressing into the cleaned virgin hole. He gathers up the precome gathered at the tip of his dick to slick up his hand too as he hears Akechi groan against the mic at the pressure.

The sounds get louder as time progresses, and he imagines Akechi's fingers dipping in deeper. "Pressed in a joint, but not sure about this yet," Akechi retorts. "It hurts a little."

"It'll start feeling better soon," Akira hums. "Wiggle it around a bit, and when you think you're ready, two fingers this time. That should give you enough leverage to find your prostate."

With that command given, he uses both his hands to take his cock into hand, half-lidded masturbating leisurely to the glossy noises of Akechi fingering himself open, the pretty moans Akechi offers him.

"Don't understand why this is s— _FUCK_ ," Akechi shouts out, the profanity followed by a long, desperate moan. Akira smirks against the ceiling—he must have found his prostate. "Oh god, Akira, Akira," Akechi urges, his voice holding in tears.

"Feels good, yeah? Keep rubbing there. Imagine how it'd feel when it's my cock rubbing there," Akira hisses, tightening his fist around his dick to imagine his ass. "You'd be so fucking tight, Akechi..."

"Akira, I—I—" The rough, hurried breaths and the pointed moans return as the sounds of Akechi masturbating get louder, he can pointedly hear the sound of his fingers sliding in and out of his hole. They drive Akira up higher and higher, and soon he's close, he's so _fucking close_.

"Akira-kun," Akechi slurs hopelessly, "I need to come. Need to come now."

He one day wonders if he can get the detective to beg. God that's one hell of a sight, Akechi split open on his dick, Akira's fingers tightly forbidding his orgasm. Akechi's smooth and elegant voice reduced to mindless moans and whines, words strung together as he barely pleads, _please let me come, please..._ God, _fuck_. "I'm so close too, you can come," Akira breathes out, and ejaculates, coming all over his shirt, making a mess over the shirt he hasn't bothered to take off.

"God, I've just taken a shower," Akechi grumbles from the other end of the line. "Good thing I haven't bothered to wear my clothes, or they'd be defiled too."

"So, how did that feel?" Akira asks curiously.

"You heard the whole thing, it was pleasurable enough to get me off," the other side replies easily. "Definitely worth some more investigation."

Akira can't help feeling smug. "Next time you'll be coming on my dick."

Akechi smirks at him right back. "I'll be waiting for that win, then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE GUYS NEXT ONE IS THE YOGURT ONE


	8. rank 6; such a beautiful body in front of me how can I possibly resist?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bathhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a lot longer and a lot more romantic than i thought it'd be. i was gonna make it the Yogurt Fuck but then goro dropped all that sad backstory and i couldn't help myself. by that i mean this is stupidly sappy & akira and goro are both (metaphorically and physically) fucked 
> 
> this chapter is only like 40% yogurt bad jamie BAD JAMIE

It's only in this moment he realizes how much he's been missing out.

Not that he regrets any of their quick and speedy sessions at alleys and public places; it's just that they've had sex seven times (six, if you exclude the phone sex, still a lot) yet it's only _now_ that Akira is seeing Akechi completely naked. It is only now that he's seeing the curve of the detective's pale neck, the flawless skin and the pert sanguine nipples on his chest, and god, he _really_ has been missing out. Akira wants to pepper kisses and bite marks all over the other boy's clavicle, then dip lower to take one of those nubs into his mouth, unravel him all with his mouth--

"Actually, are you all right? I know hot water can make people dizzy," Akechi smirks, sinking deeper into the water to clearly demonstrate that even if Akira has a problem, he doesn't. "You seem a little red in the face."

"Just getting started," Akira retaliates right back, splashing a bit of water towards Akechi. That was't why he was red in the face, and Akechi _has_ to know it. "This is nothing."

Akechi's eyes are shining brightly as he forces a wave of water right back towards him. "Well, me too. It finally feels like my body is getting relaxed."

There's no one else in the bathhouse except them, which is strange but certainly not unwelcome. It means he can slide right over to Akechi, bringing a huge tide along with his body. Before Akechi can think of countering back, he twists his body and pins the other boy against the tub to kiss him _hard_.

"Akira-kun," Akechi hisses but still responds feverishly to the kiss, "we are out in _public_."

Huh. He guesses he's no longer Kurusu-kun now that he's seen him completely naked. "Nobody's here," he hums as he nips against the plump lips to draw out the cardinal color, "we can separate ourselves quickly enough if we hear footsteps, we're used to it."

"But--"

Akira doesn't wait for an answer, runs his both his hands down Akechi's torso to explore, realizes that the body under him is far more fit than what it looks like--no traces of baby fat, only lean muscle. He supposes the physical is bound to follow the mental, both harmless at first sight and dangerous once you dip your hands into the water if Akira's inferring is to be believed. "You're more fit than I assumed," he hums pleasantly and when Akechi's expression darkens he adds, "it's not a bad thing. Just a surprise."

"I bike and boulder as a hobby," Akechi tsks strongly, then tentatively lands his own pair of hands on Akira's stomach, feeling the muscles there. He laughs as he replies, " _you're_ the one who's hiding a body, you're even more fit than me. Under all those loose shirts you've been hiding this, huh? At least I do something physical. What's your excuse? You're just a student."

Carrying Mona everywhere he goes. The Metaverse, obviously--which is probably the reason why Akechi is so fit too, since if he were black mask he would hardly have time to go bouldering. Of course, none of those is an excuse he can spit out, so he goes with the easiest route. "Protein Lovers," Akira deadpans.

Akechi's expression twists to confusion. "Excuse me?"

Utter nonchalance. "It's the gym I go to. Protein intake before a workout really helps raise stamina and muscle. Thought I may as well raise a proper body since I'm gonna be prepping for my university entrance exam."

The gaze returned his way is piercing, but it dissipates soon after. "I suppose I should appreciate it."

"You will, in one of those days we fuck on a proper bed," Akira lets one of his hands--his left-- dip into the water to outline the edges of Akechi's thighs as he uses his right to twist a nipple. The detective's body freezes at the movement, a start of a moan trapped in Akechi's throat, and his thighs go taut. _He likes having his nipples played with, huh_ , he notes as he nudges the hardened nub hard. "Feel good?"

Akechi's reply comes strangled. "We're in a _public bath_."

He shrugs. "We can go outside when you're close to coming." Then he notices how red Akechi's face has become, and he can't help but sniping back a, "or, are you getting dizzy from the steam, Akechi-kun?"

Akechi snarls, actually _snarls_ , before he flattens his expression to his pleasant facade. "You just want to feel me up."

"Hey, can you believe me? We've been fucking for the past three months, and you've never shown me your body properly," although that's been circumstantial, not intentional. "With such a beautiful body in front of me, how can I possibly resist?"

"Wh-what?" Akechi blushes to a beautiful crimson at Akechi's words, stuttering. "You can't possibly mean that. I'm too lanky and too much bone to be conventionally beautiful."

If Akechi's story of coming from a broken family is true--and he doesn't think that Akechi was lying there, there are some levels of honesty you just can't fake, even for serial murderers masquerading around as a detective--then it makes sense that he doesn't know how to deal with honest compliments like this. Akira wants to shower him with them until he's comfortable with them.

He draws closer to Akechi, grazing his teeth against his earlobes. "None of that. You're beautiful. Let me prove it to you."

The other boy's eyes are hazy as he looks down at where Akira is mouthing his neck, "how?"

Without any preamble, he draws his lips down the seductive line of Akechi's throat, mouthing at the pulse point languidly and dipping his teeth just to feel the beat against his lips. Licks against the collarbone, grazes his teeth against the smooth skin a little bit sharper this time. "You can't leave a mark there," Akechi lets out a strangled request, and Akira complies by switching to gentle kisses. Feverishly, guiltily, Akechi breathes out, "I can't handle a scandal, really."

"I understand," he whispers against the skin against his lips. Even without the problems involved with their relationship, there's also that marking is a sign of possession, and although they are mutually exclusive he's not quite sure they're there yet. The desire seizes Akira strongly, but, later.

_If there is even a later_. He ignores that voice in his head, dips his head down to take the nipple into the mouth this time, entrapping the node between his teeth. He looks up sharply to see how Akechi is faring, and he's awarded with the sight of Akechi's lips open in the half-pant, the drool starting to form against the corner of his mouth. His eyes are alight in both curiosity and desire, and the sharp leer follows his every movement, devouring it all hungrily. He takes the other nub with his left hand as he continues to torture the one between his lips, just enough for pain to mix with pleasure.

"A-Akira-kun, close," Akechi huffs out a few moments into the assault.

_Already?_ He wants to tease, but instead he rises up from the bath, offering Akechi a hand to climb out of. Wordlessly Akechi takes it, bringing himself to full height and drawing himself out of the water, his weeping hard-on no longer obscured by the opaque bathwater. _Just from having his nipples played with_ , Akira realizes in dazed awe. He wonders if he's the first person who's played with those nubs, wonders if Akechi played with them as he masturbated over the phone a few weeks prior.

They're sitting on the edges of the spa now, with Akechi letting out quick rabbit-breaths and Akira close beside him, shoulders touching. He takes a nub again in his hands as Akechi jerks himself off wetly, unchecked moans tumbling off the bloody lips and going straight to Akira's dick. It's alluring, Akechi's own hands tight around his erection, the red-purple head sliding in and out between them, the precome sliding off the slit and turning the sound of him fisting himself only makes the sounds more indecent each second. Added to that, there is the sight of Akechi's flushed expression and Akira is rock hard by the time Akechi lets himself go, painting his hands and his own stomach with cum.

"Good one?" Akira questions gently, drawing a bucketful of bath water to wash away the cum, and Akechi nods, eyes still clouded from the orgasm. He just smirks and breathes out, the fog also drawing his own mind hazy, pressing the need for his own orgasm away to a distance.

* * *

The baths are strangely empty today, and this includes the locker room. There is not even a single soul to be seen other than each other, which Akira uses to his advantage, going towel searching as Akechi travels in the opposite direction doing his own thing.

When Akira comes back, both towels hung against his shoulders, the brunette is by the door, holding two bottles of... "Yogurt," Akechi pipes up, "it's a bottle of yogurt. I always used to drink one after a round in the bathhouse--apparently, I had such a longing look in my eyes that they knew that I wanted it, and the fellow bathers would offer to buy me one. Never even had to ask."

Akira's expression pales. "I _really_ hope you mean that literally."

"Hm?" Akechi cocks his head in confusion, then catches himself. "Oh, gods, of course! I've been far too young back then, and thankfully no one had been depraved enough to take advantage of me. I suppose I should be thankful for that, considering how vulnerable I was in that period of my life... Anyways, I only came out of that time with a craving for these bottled yogurt, nothing traumatizing."

"That's good to hear," Akira breathes out, and his dick twitches. Now in the cool autumn air and with Akechi so close to him, he's remembering that he didn't get off along with the other teen. He groans as he palms against it, the touch electric.

Akechi steps closer, taking the hard cock into his pale hands. His voice is curious as he talks. "Well, that's the past, though. Now I'm all grown up and old enough to drink down the _other type of yogurt_ , too..."

Akira groans. "Stop that."

Akechi rubs the head, making Akira's knees buckle. He chuckles mischievously, "hey, you're the one who started it."

"Yeah, I'm already regretting it," Akira lets out, but doesn't mean it--it's really hard to make the words carry their weight when Akechi is sinking down to his knees, his mouth so close to the head. The movement Akechi makes when he takes the tip into his mouth is far more confident and natural that Akira narrows his eyes. When Akechi licks a broad stripe down his cock to kiss the balls, he can't keep himself from asking the question. "You've gotten better."

"Well, you're improving at the balls-and-stick game, and I couldn't keep _my_ mediocre skills at a standstill, could I?" Akechi purrs enticingly, moving up to take the head and sucking away the gathered precome there. "This is supposed to be a learning experience for both of us, and I wanted to dearly please my teacher, you see."

At least that answers one question that irked him--he _does_ practice. "Your very presence is pleasing to me," Akira hisses as Akechi properly takes the dick into his mouth, pressing his lips forward to take it deep until the head is brushing against the uvula. His eyes are dimmed from the shadows of his hair and Akira's height, but they're by no means dead. In contrast, they shine bright, clearly enjoying that he's undoing Akira's self control.

He hollows his cheeks and he sucks in, putting pressure around the intrusion as the fist also tightens simultaneously, completely entrapping Akira's cock in delicious pressure. Akira's head flies back and without thinking he takes a grasp of those silky locks, instinctively thrusting hard enough to force his cockhead past the ring of muscle and right into the tightness of his esophagus. Immediately he pulls out, realizing what he's done, barely realizing that Akechi isn't choking. Wait. Akechi didn't choke when he pushed in.

_He's not choking_.

"What?" Akira moans out addled as Akechi swallows around the shaft to deepthroat it properly, fitting more of Akira's dick into his passage. There is no way, just no way that Akechi who could barely take half of it into his mouth is pressing his lips hard against the pubes, eyes half-lidded as he looks up in confidence. Lip curving into a smile around Akira's cock, swallowing and rubbing his tongue sensually down the vein. " _What?_ "

Akechi only hums in pleasure, and the vibration travels around right around Akira's dick, resembling a vibrating sleeve. Akira's cock twitches within the confines of Akechi's warm mouth and neck, and oh fuck Akechi's mouth is so velvety and soft and wet and tight around him and Akira doesn't think as he burrows both of his hands into the kneeling teen's delicate threads and pulls _hard_ , fucking into and out of Akechi's mouth like how he'd fuck an ass.

Astonishingly, Akechi keeps his mouth closed but never chokes, keeps holding onto Akira's body by dragging his nails into his thighs, and from how it throbs Akira knows he's broken skin and drawn blood. But he doesn't care about that, can't possibly care about that when Akechi's throat squeezes around him at every push, wordlessly begging for his seed.

He ejaculates soon after, emptying himself in the depths of Akechi's passage, in which the teen swallows dutifully over and over until there's nothing more to take, then takes out his cock from his windpipe with a wet, satisfying squelch. "Hm," Akechi murmurs, obviously satisfied with his work, "I hope that was satisfying for you. I think I like my hair pulled."

Akira has to ask. "Where the hell did you learn to do that!?" It's only after the question leaves his mouth that this may be a question he might not want the answer to, because Akechi might have been sucking _actual_ cock for experience. Sucking off someone who is not him. The thought sends a jealous chill throughout his body, despite the assurance of the contract over him.

"Books," Akechi hums as he snatches a towel off Akira's shoulder to wrap it around his waist, "a few toys. It's been hard to repress my gag reflex at the beginning, but I've been practicing daily and it gave in eventually."

"Well, one point for academic learning," Akira sighs out, legs still trembling after all the strenuous work. He only smiles as Akechi rips the wrap off the yogurt to drink it down, and gently takes the bottle from where it's placed on the top of the locker to drink his own, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im still pretty sick and i REALLY can't delay my physiology report without paying it with the blood of my gpa l8er so idk when the next chapter update is but next: akira FINALLY wins the billiard game so. we get to something close to anal


	9. rank 7; i'll find a use for you yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira finally wins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> between 4 reports/week, civ, tumblr au, [ifam's 4 new shuake doujins INCLUDING THE BUNNY ONE](https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/30893571) and the depression brought forth by the shitty state of the world i've been... too busy to write this but i've sorta recovered and here it is! 
> 
> wanted to finish this on goro's bday but. schoolwork. :((( hour late bday present for goro! here's some sex for ya!
> 
> enjoy the sorta-anal everyone <3

Akira won.

Akira won Akira won Akira won Akira _fucking_ _won_.

"Even if it was with my self-imposed handicap, I'm impressed that you beat me. You've become quite skilled," Akechi hums thoughtfully. "In mere five months. I have to give you some credit."

"Well, I couldn't lose, when you've promised me _that_ as reward," Akira eyes the detective hungrily, stepping closer enough that they can share their warm breaths from each others' lungs. With a quick scan around the neighborhood he checks that no one is around, then reaches forward to grope Akechi's ass.

A startled laughter erupts from Akechi. " _Someone's_ eager."

"You've been an absolute tease for the past six months," he growls. "I've wanted to screw you into the ground ever since the phone sex, _Crow_."

"I know," Akechi's eyes glint mischievously, reflecting the luminescence off the colorful neon lights coming from all directions—his usual crimson is now streaked with pink, red and purple, resembling a kaleidoscope, utterly entrancing. Akira, without asking, grabs the leather-clad hand and pulls the other teen towards the housing district, to the place where they had sex for the second time. Akechi trots confidently alongside him, letting him lead the rhythm—ever the perfectly reliable teammate.

Except for the fact that he's planning to kill him, that is, and not through the amazing sex.

"A lot has changed since then, haven't it?" Akechi murmurs as he follows without a skip in his footsteps, turning a corner easily and coming to a slow stop as they come across the familiar wall again. "I didn't know back then how similar we were, being victims of unjust adults. And now, we both have the will and power to rise up against them."

Akechi sets the briefcase aside and shimmies out of his jacket as Akira catches the lube he throws in his direction. Akechi, ignorant of the internal commentary, continues with a light voice. "Yet I'm doing so as a detective, and you're acting as a phantom thief. Our stances couldn't be more different."

"Did you know I was a phantom thief when you let me into your pants?" Akira grins as he reaches for Akechi's pants to undo the buckles, and Akechi's grips follow to undo the raven's own.

Akechi turns thoughtful. "I theorized that it may be the case, but I wasn't _completely_ sure until I followed you into the Metaverse, actually."

Akira snorts and pulls Akechi's pants down until they're pooling around his ankles. "Stalked, you mean."

A shrug. "I'm a detective. I was gathering evidence on the most likely suspect."

"Are you going to keep speaking in euphemisms even when your dick out is like this?" He raises his eyebrows, rubbing the pink head and eliciting a shudder from the other boy. "And detective, remember that you're still one of us now."

The detective's expression morphs in melancholy. "Not for long. Even that united front will soon end. And after that, everything will return to the way it was, no?"

_Yeah, because you want to kill me. You're really confusing me here with the sex and murder here—can you possibly be more extreme with mixed signals?_ "You can join us permanently if you want." It's everything that Akira has wanted, to have Akechi right behind him, reliable and stoic as an ally.

"No, how about... why not join me instead? All you'd have to do is abandon the teammates you have now."

Akira's about to brush it off, call it a funny joke until his eyes meet Akechi's deadly serious gaze. His breath freezes as his hand turns clammy where they're grasping the lube. Akechi's tone was light, but the boy opposing him had years of acting experiences stacked upon him; Akira can now hear past all the falsehood, the weight behind the words.

So he hardens his own stare behind the lenses and reaches close enough for a kiss. Right into those lips, he breathes, "you're my rival."

This close, even with the low light, he can see how Akechi's pupil widen fractionally, just barely revealing the void beneath them. People often say that eyes are the window to the soul, and Akira wonders if he managed to unveil something fundamental. "Every time," Akechi whispers, "every time I think I have you figured out, you managed to surprise me each time, Kurusu Akira. But you're right, we're better off as rivals."

They kiss. It's chaste, tasting like the remnant of whatever sweets Akechi popped in his mouth before, but it's faint enough that he can taste the Akechi under it. Akira pins Akechi against the wall as the kiss deepens; both of them now equally skilled in the field, tongues easily fitting around each other as they explore each others' mouths. Still locked in the lips Akira fits his palms around the globe of Akechi's ass, enjoying their softness in their hands.

When they separate, there's a sharpness to Akechi's eyes. "Fuck me," the brunette murmurs lowly, turning on his heel to offer his ass.

It's then Akira realizes where they are; in a cornered alley littered with garbage, the flicking streetlight barely enough to illuminate the area, the brick wall cold against where Akechi's face is pressed against it. He doesn't want their—and also Akechi's—first time to be here, like _this_. Somewhere they have to be vigilant and watch what they say. "Not here," Akira murmurs, and when that glare turns dangerous quickly adds, "not like this. We can't even talk properly, and I want our first time to be where somewhere you can _scream_."

The look softens slightly, reluctant but conceding. " _Then_ what do you suggest we do?" His voice is scathing— _glad to know that I'm not the only disappointed one_.

"Don't worry, I'll find a use for you yet," and Akira doesn't miss how Akechi's breath quickens at his words. Some food for the tabloids this is; the second coming of the detective prince has a praise _and_ degradation kink. "Keep your thighs together," he hums as he slathers lube all over his hands and curls it around his cock, getting his cock wet enough with the oil.

Akechi makes a curious sound, but doesn't argue back, obediently drawing his legs together. Akira moves forward to rub some of the lube between his thighs, too, and Akechi shudders in his grasp as his hands nudge the back of his balls when he dips between them. Unlike his own chiseled thighs, Akechi's muscled pair are softer despite the cycling. From the lack of protein consumption, Akira guesses.

Without words, he thrusts between the crack, moaning at the tightness around his dick, and pulls out. He tries again, this time wrapping his slick hands around Akechi's dick, thrusting in and out as he tightens his fist and loosens it, according to rhythm. They moan simultaneously, and Akira lets out a triumphant victory against Akechi's neck. When he presses in for the third time, Akechi draws his legs together to intensify the delicious pleasure, and Akira slips his thumb into the slit, dipping as far as he can go.

When they get a hang of the rhythm, Akira drives it higher and higher, thrusting higher and nibbling at Akechi's earlobe just enough to not leave a mark in addendum to the handjob. Akechi, being the quick learner he is, brings his thighs tighter and pushes back as Akira presses forward. It takes neither of them to reach the peak quickly, with Akechi coming against Akira's hands first. When he feels his orgasm approach, with only two quick thrusts against Akechi's shaking body, Akira quickly pulls away and spreads Akechi's ass to come all over the revealed hole.

"Fuck," Akira hisses, bringing his dirtied right hand up to gather some of the come splattered all over Akechi's supple skin, pressing it into Akechi's unstretched hole. There's just enough lube on his hands that it enters with only minimal resistance. Akechi tries to squirm away from the sensation, obviously too oversensitive right after ejaculating, but Akira uses his left to pin him into the wall, fingerfucking him leisurely.

Only when two of his fingers slide in smoothly and most of the come is inside Akechi he lets go, bringing his messy hands to his mouth to clean them up. It's sour and disgusting by taste alone, but the sheer realization that it's the taste of Akechi and himself mixing together makes him drink down every drop.

Akechi watches dazedly, eyes locked to Akira's lips. His smile is gentle as he grins up to Akira. "As long as we're working together, you'll have my strength. You can rely on me."

"I trust you," Akira says.

Despite everything, it's not a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally the anal sex approaches and so does my finals.................. it's just 3 chapters left so i'm gonna try my best to finish it before finals but................ we will See.............................


	10. rank 8; considering you've won against me twice i think it's time for your long delayed reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akechi invites Akira somewhere they won't be interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this is the anal chapter! i have this chapter saved as "FINALYL" even though it took so long SORRY i had to go thru my shitty finals (which. is actually present continuous im supposed to be writing a summary report rn) and beat scramble for this!

When Akira arrives at their usual meet-up spot in front of Kichijouji to face Akechi, he instinctively knows today will be different from their usual outings that have merely been getting-to-know-each-other dates from the sheer tenseness radiating from the other boy. Swallowing all words, he silently prowls forwards until he's standing right in front of Akechi.

When Akechi notices him, his eyes turn widen fractionally and his stance turns less rigid, more comfortable. Nothing else changes from his behavior, nothing dramatic or even noticeable, but Akira's learned to read the slightest of behavioral changes from the detective now—after all, Akechi's so skilled in the art of words that they don't betray him, yet with physical reactions there is a limit that even an actor of his caliber can hide.

"Good evening. I've been waiting for you," Akechi offers, ever the pleasant detective. "Do you have time? I want to talk to you about something... It'd be best if we went somewhere where there aren't many people around. How about, let's say... Mementos?" His expression turns dangerous, playful. " _Nobody_ can get in our way there."

Akira's brain freezes, because somewhere they can't be interrupted may mean that he's _finally_ getting his reward for surpassing Akechi. His _proper reward_. He's pocketed a bottle of lube just in case, but he hasn't expected him to immediately get to it.

Morgana, however, makes a worried sound. "He wants the two of you to go to Mementos alone...? Well, you guys are strong enough that you should be fine, but... be ready for anything, I guess."

Now that Akechi is no longer pretending that he can't hear Morgana, he's carefully watching what he's saying but Akira hears the hidden message loud and clear: _be careful, remember that he wants to kill you, never let your guard down_. Yet Akira knows that's all needless worrying, that he is safe with his back against Akechi as of _now_. Yes, Akechi's a cold-blooded assassin—specifically, Akechi's an assassin who wants to _kill him,_ plotted an intricate infiltration plan just to put a bullet in his head—but it isn't Akira's time yet for the bullet in his heart, and his executioner has been more than clear about it.

His _attempted_ executioner, if plans go accordingly.

"Let's get going, then," he shrugs when Morgana's weight vanishes from his shoulders as the feline jumps from its nest within his bag and runs off. Akechi nods, and the two of them head towards the station to enter the world where they would be utterly, absolutely unbothered by the world around them.

* * *

"Well, this place should do nicely..."

Akira is already hard by the time they arrive in the depths of Mementos—the reaction is Pavlovian at this point, Akechi plus solitary means sex—ready for whatever Akechi is plotting. The place he's chosen is an open court—no beds or sofas of any sort that would make sex easier, but that's to be expected from the fact that Mementos is based off of a subway station. Still, it's an area that shadows avoid, which means they would not be bothered even if they were to stay for hours. Akira's hands turn clammy under his gloves as his pants get tighter.

"Why are we in Mementos?" Akira fakes disinterest, shoving his hands in the coat's pockets, acting like his cock isn't pressing against the fabric at this very moment. Only a slight hint of a flirt in his voice.

"This," Akechi says cheerfully, then takes out a gun on him. Akira freezes immediately out of instinct when he sees that it's not the yellow toy ray gun that Akechi waves around in the Metaverse, but a metallic, realistic one. There's a chance that's also a realistic model that he himself handles in the Metaverse, but there's the fact that Akechi is an _assassin_ with _years_ of experience under his belt.

Akechi is pointing an _actual fucking gun_ at him.

"Remember what I told you? If you ever won against me using my non-dominant hand, I'd take you against everything I've got," Akechi continues, the hand on his gun stable and firm like how it had been when he handled the model gun in the arcade. Akira lets the tension escape his body, reminding himself that Akechi won't kill him now, he _can't_ kill him now, but it's difficult to relax while staring down the barrel of an authentic lethal weapon.

"I thought we were having sex," thankfully, it's easier for Akira to steel his voice and keep it flat while wearing this outfit, while being Joker. "You want to _fight_? And not 'tongues fighting for dominance' fighting, but with our _weapons?_ "

Akechi nods resolutely. "Yes, exactly. Your insight allowing you to determine my dominant hand, your quick wit, and most of all, how fast you've grown... You've exceeded my expectations in every way. Thus, I've built up this urge to duel you without holding anything back."

Although Akira's been looking forward to the sex, at Akechi's mention of a duel, he feels his blood boil with adrenaline and excitement. It's just that there is nobody he knows that can counter him how Akechi can; the Phantom Thieves may be skilled at each of their arts but their relationship with Akira is complimentary over contrary, and although the shadows provide enough entertainment to blow off steam, it doesn't compare to the blood-curdling thrill of crossing blades with someone who can oppose him.

And the sex post his victory when he has Akechi pinned down would be absolutely mindblowing.

He lets his face take on a devilish expression as he retrieves his dagger from the inside of his coat. "Yeah, let's do it."

"Thanks for indulging my selfish request," Akira can make out a hint of a smile under the thick red mask. "No need for pleasantries at this point, correct?"

Akira nods, and Goro's grin turns wider in reply. "Let's go!"

* * *

After a concentrated-charged Garudyne from Garuda, One-shot Kill from Seth and a container-emptying bullet hail finish later, Akira has Akechi unmasked and pinned against the filthy Mementos flooring dirtying his pristine white prince outfit, as it should be. Despite the unpleasantness of the swirling crimson and black around them and the cold concrete walls and bars at all four walls, all Akira can do is smile and keep his dagger pressed threateningly against the other boy's frail neck.

"Haha... this was unexpected," Akechi squirms under the weight, which only causes Akira to hold him down with even stronger force. "You've caught up to me on this front already, too..."

Having acquired the phone call recording, Akira doesn't need any more evidence that Akechi is the one behind the mental breakdowns and collapses, but if he hasn't realized it before, he thinks he would have definitely pieced together the pieces with that. As he already knows, all he does is cock his head to the side and give a face-splitting wide grin at his fallen now-teammate. "Is that all you've got?"

"Of course not. But if we go any further, we'd both go beyond the point of no return, wouldn't we?" Akechi's grin takes a sinister turn, fingers twitching behind his gloves. "In all honestly, I'd love to see just how far we can go, but we have an important mission coming up. Until that's finished, you're a vital ally to me. Plus..." Akechi suddenly stops squirming within his grasp, instead choosing to grind his ass upwards, dragging his groin right across Akira's half-hard cock. "Considering you've won against me _twice_ , I think it's time for your long-delayed reward."

Fuck fuck fuck _fuck_. That's all Akira's dick needs to immediately rise to full mast, the mere suggestion of fucking into Akechi's tight hole. He's already too gone to worry about undoing belts, so he takes the dagger and drags it down the fabric covering Akechi's lower body, his proficiency with the weapon high enough that he uses just the enough force only to tear through the clothing and nothing else. Once there's a large enough hole to fit his hand, he ruthlessly shoves his two hands to rip it beyond repair.

The resulting destruction of Akechi's outfit is almost as satisfying as winning against him, the fact he's ravaging such an impeccable and flawless creature going straight to his dick. It throbs within its confines, somehow getting even harder. No longer able to wait, he goes for the gloves, undoing the clasps near the wrist—

"Wait, Joker, wait. Keep the gloves," Goro huffs out, and Akira's fingers stop in their movement, and begins to reverse the movements until the crimson leather is fastened tight over his hands again.

"You like them, huh?" Akira smirks as he kicks away the leftovers of Akechi's pants and dips his finger into the underwear, brushing the leather against the feverish skin. Akechi, without replying, only snaps his hips forward so he can get more of the contact. No longer in the mood to delay anything, he immediately reaches around his waist to nudge against the back, only to find out that he's already wet and stretched loose with lube.

"Metaverse cognition?" Akira questions in his haze, only to meet Akechi's smug but shaky headshake.

"I prepped myself before coming," he professes, the smirk stretching to encompass his entire face when Joker's body shudders violently at the offered information. "I'm not someone who breaks promises, and I _have_ promised. It would have been disappointed if you lost, Joker. I'm glad you broke my expectations."

"You seriously thought you had a chance against me?" Akira questions incredulously. "Even with my powers to switch through various personas? You know what I think? I think you're actually a slut and started a losing game because you wanted to get fucked down here with the cognitions watching, Crow."

What he's expecting is a fight, a retort, a response of some sort, not Akechi sinking back to the floor and moaning, his hard cock twitching underneath the single layer. Akechi hisses out, "just fuck me already."

"You liked that," Akira mutters deliriously. "You _like_ that?"

"It seems like every moment I stay with you I learn something new about myself, leader," Akechi pants desperately, head lurching from left and right as Akira's middle finger begins to penetrate the rim of his anus. Once he gets used to the pressure, he purposefully loosens up, the intense pressure around his digit slowly weakening. "Nobody outside ever dares to speak to me that way."

"No wonder you have an ego," Akira snipes back as he wiggles his finger inside of Akechi, spreading the lube around. Akechi did a thorough job prepping himself, but he repeats the motions anyways, just so he can have the fantasy of preparing him for sex.

Akechi's reply is a snort. " _You're_ telling _me_ about having an ego? Please, Joker." Akira, instead of replying, shoves a second finger at that time, earning himself a choked moan from the brunette. Grinning at the oncoming glare, he uses the available depth to stretch him thoroughly and nudge around, looking for the spot that'd drive the detective's careful put-together act out of the window.

"There, there, there—" Akechi shrieks as Akira's fingers nudge against a nub, his back bending seductively, ass pushed back against the digits to force it into him deeper. Enamored by a sudden idea, Akira uses his left hand to force Akechi's underwear down, then grips his cock tightly.

Akira grits his teeth and ignores his own orgasm as he rubs the head of Akechi's cock in the way he knows he likes now with his left hand, rhythmically rocks his fingers so it's rubbing against Akechi's sensitive spot, memorizing where it is. It doesn't take long for the feverish member in his hand to twitch once and to spill come all over his hands, leaving a very satisfied Akira and a fairly exhausted Akechi.

"I thought you've wanted to fuck me," Akechi questions once he recovers, content from the orgasm but nonplussed from how everything has progressed. "Hasn't that been the whole point of this?"

"You can come again on my dick," Akira quips easily as he takes out his fingers, going for his own belt. The come makes a white streak on his grey pants as he fists against the cloth and pushes it down. "We're in the Metaverse. We probably have a faster refractory period in here. If not, well, I can simply fuck you until you can, then."

Akechi, from his hair sticking to his forehead because of the sweat shivering at Akira's threat, probably needs a bit of recovery time, Akira decides. Yet the sight of the detective trussed up is very enticing that Akira still finds it more than enough to jerk off to, and he wraps his fingers around his cock, completely aware of his audience. Akechi doesn't technically need any more prep, but he slicks his own length with Akechi's own come, enjoying the pair of hungry red eyes are transfixed on his cock, the way how those orb's owner licks his lips in obvious lust.

"Ready now?" Akira inquires, already knowing the answer from the way how Akechi's cock twitches, now half-hard. When he receives the nod, he doesn't wait more, dropping right down to Akechi's levels. He grabs the legs, forces the two skinny legs up to his shoulders, and pushes in with the new position.

Despite the extra prep Akira's put in, Akechi is still painfully tight around Akira's cock when it penetrates the rim, and he needs to grit it out so he doesn't immediately come and ruin the fun for the both of them. Thankfully Akechi's busy dealing with the pain of having a cock splitting him open, so before he can come back to his senses and start running his mouth Akira pulls out and presses back in, determined to find his prostate like this.

He only has to rock his hips a few times for the head to hit the spot—Akechi's subdued huffs morph into a howl as his gloved fingers dig into the concrete floor, and Akira's sure if it weren't for his own pair of white gloves, he'd be seeing blood with how harshly he's clawing against them. "Feel good?" Akira questions, not expecting an answer, drawing back slightly only to harshly slam himself back in against that spot, earning a crushed moan from Akechi.

"D-Dn't stop," Akechi slurs in a voice that has to constitute as begging, pressing his ass back against Akira's thrusts, the two of them now having established a comfortable rhythm. His cock has gotten hard again, and it bounces against his stomach at every push and pull. He wraps his hand around it as his breathing turns more erratic, orgasm crashing almost as soon as he gets a fist around it, this time making a mess on his gloves.

And the way Akechi's ass tightens as the waves of ejaculation rolls over is what finally tips Akira over to come, splatting sticky come all across Akechi's walls. Once every drop has been wrenched from his dick, he slumps forwards, the energy all seeped out of him along with the orgasm. Barely remembers to drop Akechi's legs so they can wrap around him instead of being locked up against his shoulders.

Akira wants to say something, _did that feel good for you? Want to go for another round? Is this enough not to kill me?_ Something, but all of his intelligence has been drained out with that orgasm that all he can do is crawl forward and nuzzle Akechi's shoulder and neck affectionately.

"We're done here, let's go," Akechi murmurs as he's crushed under Joker's weight, then twitches as Akira doesn't even budge from his place, "...perhaps a bit later."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few facts abt this chapter  
> \- originally i wanted to write the fight scene but it got wayyyy too long and i couldn't handle it. so skipping it is   
> \- i am very tired rn so if i have unfinished sentences and errors and etc feel free 2 point it out so i may fix em   
> \- the other half of this rank is relevant in a future chapter so :) i decided to skip it . i swear i won't just ignore it it WILL become relevant. how could i forget the glove smashing


	11. 11/16; this is the final lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night before the big day. Of course Goro spends it with Akira.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEVEN HUNDRED KUDOS????????????? guys i'm so honored please enjoy yet another chapter of shuake porn
> 
> sorry for how late this is! the usual: spacing into the netherspace, not playing my backlog, SMTIII NOCTURNE ON 10/29, promare happened. also been translating a bunch of shuake doujins for friens......... i will bring the bottom goro content i need into existence........... ..
> 
> also: i said dates i didn't say social links >:3 so this one takes place in the jazz club. also very heavy mtg energy... ive been reading their doujins and i can't HELP MYSELF

**YOU** : Are you free right now?

**YOU** : Not much we can do for Sae-san but wait, now.

**YOU** : We're nearing the end of my tenure as a Phantom Thief.

**YOU** : How does a trip to the jazz club sound? We could chat a little.

**KURUSU** : That sounds good.

**YOU** : Thanks.

**YOU** : I'll see you there, shall I?

* * *

As he waits for Akira to arrive, he makes himself comfortable in the usual seat Muhen saves for him and simply _recounts_.

He's not meant to take Akira's deal up so thoroughly, didn't mean to get himself so engaged in the whole virgin act--he may have had no sexual experience when he first met the other wildcard, but by no means could he be considered _innocent_ in any way. He's stained himself in various shades of dark to survive, and he's had to watch some of his mother's unsavory encounters inside a closet because she couldn't send him over to the bathhouse quick enough. Despite the sheer amount of act he needs to put up around Akira, he can't keep himself away from Akira, desperate for this short moment of human interaction. Goro's learned to enjoy the way how Akira's breath quickens and his heart skips a beat whenever he plays the untainted saint for him, and the sex that follows soon after, the roughness against his skin and the bruises the day after.

He wonders what drives _Akira_ to keep him company when he has all those friends--does he feel the same magnetic draw Goro feels whenever he's near, or is it simply that Akira enjoys fucking (both literally and metaphorically) with danger? He thinks it must at least be a mix of the two, Goro hasn't been subtle throwing hints at Joker's way, silently screaming, _figure it out dumbass, if you have half a brain you should be able to figure out that I am a Metaverse user and I'm out to kill you_.

If Akira ends up indubitably dead in the oncoming interrogation, he'd be disappointed. Both disappointed that he's overestimated his rival, and that their relationship ended in such a bleak way. More the former.

Think of the devil. He jumps when there's a gentle brush against his shoulder, along with a, "were you waiting long? Sorry it took me so long."

Long enough. "It's no problem, Akira-kun," Goro smiles gently, keeping up the detective act flawlessly, mindlessly. It comes to him so naturally that he no longer feels like he's acting when he erects that wall, like the mask has been sewn into his skin and irremovable. He wonders if Akira can see past the niceties--the mere thought makes his heart beat faster. If Akira found out, he'd call him an exhibitionist, probably. Goro can pretty much imagine him, after their countless encounters the past six months, how his soft attitude would melt away as his tone turned biting yet not hurtful, teasing him with carefully chosen words.

"What are you thinking about?" Akira questions gently.

"Just realizing... how far we've gotten since we've last been here," not a lie, per se. "I'm so happy that I'm here talking with you again. Isn't the jazz club nice? I like how not a lot of people really know this place... Heh, or does that sound like I'm showing off?"

"It's like your quiet place, I understand," Akira murmurs in a barely audible voice, talking like Goro wouldn't notice little nod he makes while saying it, the jackass. Like he doesn't live in the attic of the place that makes the best espresso in the whole of Tokyo. Then, sassier, "I have good memories about this place, too."

"Today's the last day, you know," Goro muses, "the last day I get to be a Phantom Thief, and the last day I get to know you casually."

"Ah yes, you said you were going to catch the real perpetrator," Akira's expressionless as he says it. Blank. Guarded. "I still don't understand why that's necessary. I can help." 

"It's dangerous," when Akira opens his mouth Goro quickly interjects to cut him off before he can find a crack in his argument to take advantage of, "and if they realize the Phantom Thieves were involved in the argument, they may try to throw the whole thing out saying it's fabricated. Hell, they'll probably try to _still_ do that in order to save face. I want you well away from it until your name is 100% cleared." 

The younger one's expression darkens considerably. "We could still have sex." 

"I can see the headlines already: Akechi Goro in a relationship with or, ehem, 'physically bribed by' the leader of the Phantom Thieves, to submit evidence in favor of the terrorism group." 

Scrutinizing glance. "But _I'm_ the one fucking _you_." 

"Male prostitutes exist."

"Yeah, and women are capable of pegging." 

He can't help the laughter that escapes him. "God, Akira, you're so..." He shouldn't be feeling this much fondness for the boy he's going to put a bullet between his teeth, but the warmth that bubbles from Akira's disappointment can only be described as that. "Alright. How about this: once the man behind it all is behind bars," _or six feet under,_ "I promise I'll come back to you and we'll have sex on a real bed." _If you're still alive then, that is_. 

An undecipherable look flashes past Akira, but he eventually takes his hand and nods. "You'll find whoever is behind everything, I trust you."

_You shouldn't_. "If you carry out your side of the bargain, I couldn't even think about not carrying out mine. Don't worry, I'm not half bad a detective despite everything."

Akira hums the tune that the singer is singing on the stage, and Goro relaxes to the gentle sound. He's always liked the jazz cafe; a sacred sanctuary where he could forget about Shido and his revenge and the past to just enjoy the music, like how Leblanc was slowly turning out to be. "But that's from tomorrow, and I brought you here today for anything you want."

A silent beat. "Tell me a random fact about yourself."

That actually gets him thinking, because there's not much he can tell Akira truthfully without revealing all his cards on the table. When Goro's mind latches on a fading memory, he hums and starts. "Alright. A long time ago, even before I met you, a girl from another class confessed her love to me... Oh, this isn't me bragging, by the way. At the time, the only thing on my mind was how exactly I was going to turn her down. I'm terrible, aren't I? I think so too. But I have something I must do..."

"Yet you didn't turn _me_ down," Akira smiles pleasantly. "I'm honored."

"Well, your argument against me was very refreshing when you countered me on TV. What came after wasn't so bad, either. I thought it could be a good learning experience."

"Then, this is the last lesson, huh?" The mood around them shifts, the chilly November air suddenly turning feverish hot, and Goro lets out a shivery breath because with the mention of sex he feels how the thick plug seated all the way fills him up fully. Akira, opposite of him, only smirks knowingly. "I know that hungry look. You're looking forward to it, huh?"

One of these days, he's going to slap a hand over Akira and ride him. Until then... "Akira, please, please?" He whines lowly, the words holding a bit too much truth than what he'd like. "I've been ready ever since I sat down." He tosses Akira an innocent look, watching how the shadows under Joker's eye reaches down lower, the hunger devouring his common sense.

The trip to the restroom takes less than half a minute with Akira's fingers digging into the wrists where he's gripping onto Goro tightly, and the moment the door closes Goro's shoved against the filthy restroom walls, his belts being ripped away from him after a rough shove. He silently watches Akira growl as he goes for his slacks, pushing them down without hesitation along with the underwear, enjoying how he can so easily drive him like this, hungry and primal and eager to consume. With the agreement in place, this is the side of Akira that is exclusive to Goro only, and the fact he gets to keep a shard of Akira all to himself makes him giddy.

"Fuck, no wonder you've been so needy to get to the main course," Akira from underneath him, and Goro feels more than sees Akira find the plug, with how the little motion from Akira's fingers presses the head deeper and right against his prostate. His leg quivers as he moans, this time not having to fake it at _all_. "How does it feel?"

"Full," Goro whines as Akira pulls the plug just enough for it to get off his prostate, then pushing back hard so it'd hit it. "Feels good."

"It's still smaller than my cock, you know," Akira hums playfully as he continues to play with the toy, leisurely fucking Goro with the rubber. "It's not enough, isn't it?" Goro shakes his head, but he knows from the way Akira twists the plug as it's sitting on his prostate he's not pleased with a nonverbal answer. "Come on detective, you have words, I want you to say it."

"I-It's not enough," Goro stutters out as he snaps his hips back, silently begging for more friction, more, more, _more_. "Joker. I need your cock. Fuck me..."

Kurusu Akira is king of restraining himself, especially in the Metaverse so they can conserve their SP, but he unravels the moments are out of Goro's mouth, and he's being flipped wildly with his cheeks slammed against the wall. Akira pulls out the toy slowly, breath hurrying from the sight of Goro's hole stretching to accompany the thicker part of the dildo, ignoring Goro's slurred pleas to _hurry up, Akira please, I want it_. He shoves three fingers roughly once it's out, the digits slipping into Goro's gaping hole without any obstruction thanks to the rubber Goro's been wearing all night and the copious amount of lube he's used when he's stretched himself open to fit it in. Akira ignores the thorough prep that is clearly obvious and continues to finger and stretch Goro for his cock, and Goro stutters out moans and prayers because he knows this is what Akira wants to hear.

"God, Akechi, you drive me fucking crazy," is all he gets before Akira's cockhead pushes past the rim and stretches him open, far more than the toy could have done, Goro moans loudly at the heated flesh not stopping, continuing until it's bottomed out. "I can hold myself back with anyone else, but not you."

Those words cause his cock to jump. "Don't hold back, you can be rough with me, Joker..."

"Should have fucked you in the Metaverse once," Akira hisses, his hip moving chaotically, pressing as fast as he can, hitting Goro's prostate on an off rhythm. Akira's bare hands find his way past Goro's shirts and then fingers start massaging his nipples, and Goro screams. "Fuck, you're so tight, and you're so sensitive, I can't help myself..."

Embarrassingly, Goro loses his words around there, pushing back against each thrust against his ass, and pressing his chest to the fingers harder so they can touch him, please, god. Time is lost as he's trapped between the two against his sensitive body, and once, he shudders hard, hard enough it has to be felt by Akira, and comes all over the wall.

Akira breath is thready. "Fuck, Goro, did you just _come?_ "

Goro can't formulate a proper response, with the cock still pressing into his sensitive spots. Just make an embarrassing cry. Thankfully, Joker is equally gone, and after a single thrust Goro feels Akira follow suit, the hot seed filling Goro up. Akira, after a shiver, pulls out, and just breathes, marveling over Goro's stretched, cum-filled hole. Then, wordlessly, he presses the toy right back into him, the stretch making Goro shake his head from overstimulation.

"It's for the mess. It'd be dripping down your pants if we don't do that," but from the way Akira's voice is still so strained, it's _definitely_ more than that. Goro only nods against the wall, limbs too jelly too move, and Akira, also with sluggish arm, begins to clean up begrudgingly. The toy that he thought he's gotten used to now feels far too much after the fucking and he mewls, tightening and loosening around the shaft, trying to make it comfortable.

Goro feels himself slip. Maybe a quick nap is alright--he hasn't been sleeping lately with the assassinations as well as the prior planning for the big day. Muhen would understand. As he starts to sink down, he hears Akira murmur something lowly. It's too faraway to Goro now that he misses it.

* * *

_"I swear I'll save you, Goro."_


	12. rank 10 MAX; we'll meet again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In bed, alone, thinking about past encounters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhhhh i know this was originally going to be the last chapter but i came up with a plot bunny so i guess we are going with 13 (although i may... do the thirdsem continuation but we shall see fan reaction first)

Fucking— _goddamnit_.

After a day like _that_ , Akira collapses on his bed with his bag flying halfway across the room, Morgana already skittering out of the attic to curl somewhere else to offer him some personal space. Despite Morgana's bossy presence in his life, he appreciates him for being there for him constantly; yet there are some moments where you must simply stay alone to recollect yourself in silence.

Any problems regarding Akechi fits in that criteria. Honestly, he's not sure how to describe their relationship: fuckbuddies sound too vulgar, boyfriends is simply inaccurate—both of them drew the line on that front. He thought Akechi might be acting when he found out that Akechi was black mask and the secret he had been hiding was his _murder_ , but in the end that didn't matter because he died for him, Akechi ended up _dying_ for him...

Akira takes a shaky breath and collapses on the bed. Fuck. Akira may be in love with him. He always has been a little confused especially during the later stages of their relationship, their physical relationship often tripping him into thinking that he may feel genuine affection for the other boy: but it couldn't be love, Akechi was planning to murder him, Akira was planning to flip the tables on him, they were rivals. As he lies in his bed alone, imagining Akechi's phantom breaths against his neck, hearing his ghost chuckles against his ear, he can't be sure.

One thing he is sure about is that he wants them to keep their promise. The one Akechi demanded him by throwing his glove, and Akira accepted with a smirk on his face. The glove in his pocket right now. Akira slips his left hand into his pocket and grasps at the leather, feeling the supple fabric against his skin. The sensation is familiar; it lacks the firmness provided by Akechi's skin and bones but it's the same feeling that used to be wrapped around his cock, skittishly jerking him off.

Akira carefully retrieves the glove from his pocket, blowing the stray lint away. It's obviously worn-in with crinkles and cuts and the slight fade of the coloring—Akechi really threw him half a pair of what he had worn often—but the years only gives the leather age and softness that Akira enjoys. Akira slips the pair on his right hand snugly and trails the fingers down, playing with his covered nipples, tweaking and rubbing against the nub. Electric sensation travels down his spine and to his dick, and he lets a moan escape him.

It's been a while since he's played with himself—ever since he met Akechi, actually, although he's had a few jerk-off sessions in the shower—so every touch he offers himself is delicious and sanguine. Especially with the glove on, it's easy to close the eyes and sink into the fantasy that it's Akechi touching him, it's Akechi grazing his glove all across Akira's body and bringing Akira to full hardness.

He'd probably chuckle, _you're so reactive_ , the sentence coming out breathy because he has a hard-on himself, _getting half-hard to the thoughts of fucking me, fully hard with my hands on your body. Maybe you could come without any stimulus on your cock with how easily you get hard?_ Akechi would whisper, his teeth grazing against his earlobes, a little trick he learned from Akira himself.

"Too bad you're desperate for a fuck as much as I'm up for fucking you," Akira would breath out to the two of them, undoing the clasps of his belt desperately with a single hand as Akechi's hands still roamed over his body, "absolute fucking tease."

 _If you hate me for being a tease, blame yourself_ , Akechi would groan, rolling his hips deliciously against his reddened cock, _because I've never had a teacher on this other than you_.

As he _should_. The sheer amount of possessive emotions that triggers when he thinks about he's the one who took Akechi's virginity on everything is dangerous. Akira grits his teeth as he fists his gloved hand over his cock, the tightness offering delicious stimulus for him to fuck into. Akira would smirk, looking right up at Akechi as he jerks up against the hand instead of the hip. "Maybe I'll just come on your hand instead, if you're not that desperate for it."

Akechi would glare at him, pretending the talk isn't affecting him, pretending he doesn't need to be railed against the bed with everything Akira's got. _Like you can_ , Akechi would hiss, _you've already got a taste of my ass, hmm? You can be content with something lesser, leader?_

Normally, there would be no need to waste an orgasm with Akechi's ass _right there_ , but Akira's competitive nature growls with its need to _win_ , especially against Akechi. So he fucks against the hand harder and harder, watching Akechi's grip tighten to a painful degree over his cock, the fingers dragging in so hard they'd leave red marks.

 _Alright! Fine! I want you to fuck me!_ Akechi would hiss, eyes filled with clear disapproval and hatred as he finally removes his hand away, then he'd sit immediately sit down on Akira's cock like he's been starving for it, moaning happily—

Akira comes like that, with the sheer tightness of Akechi's ass in his mind. He pants, giving his softening cock a little nudge, enjoying the overt sensitivity that travels down his body. He groans, sinks into the bed and bites the glove to pull it off, feeling his own come against his tongue, the taste sour and unpleasant without the thought of Akechi's precome mixed into the batch.

In bed, he silently broods. They'll meet one day again. He absolutely believes it, from the bottom of his heart.


	13. 12/24; i'm spending it with the person i love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Eve, and Akira wants only one thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you thought you saw the last of me you fuckers? 
> 
> for mar and chelsey <3 merry christmas eve, you small children. also if it doesn't show, i haven't written for a good while so my writing skills are hella wonky rn (don't go into pharm. run. don't go into pharm. also stream noblesse for crunchyroll x )

Even with Akechi gone, life continues on. The universe doesn't care about heartbreaks nor does it care for injustice, and Akira attempts to get a footing on his everyday life, reluctantly pressing forward. He enforces his other confidants, spends time with his teammates to strengthen the powers of their Personas, and helps out Sojiro with the cleaning at Leblanc when time is still left over. Funereal cloud settled over Tokyo, the lethargy permeates through every pore of Akira's clandestine life, draining all impetus from his body as he patiently waits for the day of Shido's downfall.

Then Election Day and Christmas Eve arrives, and Akira's life snaps to one of adrenaline and crisis often associated to his Phantom Thief persona, with the sinister aura consuming all of the Phantom Thieves, Akira exposing a fake-Igor as the man-made god Yaldabaoth, then deepest portion of Mementos opening up to the Phantom Thieves, then with the help of his friends Akira extinguishing the God of Control from this plane of existence—for now. Akira stands as the victor at the very end of it all, Satanael having retracted back to his soul, Metaverse no longer reachable by them. When his friends go their separate ways, it is Akira alone who stands in the middle of Shibuya staring at the bright screens, feeling despondently lonelier than he ever has been.

The silence doesn't last for long—Sae comes around, and he can't even mourn for the loss of Akechi alone anymore. She tells him about everything; about how there isn't enough evidence to indict Shido, how she wants him to turn himself into the police, and how he'll definitely be arrested if he chooses to do so. Akira, of course, has made his decision the moment Sae has spoken of the inconsequential evidence Shido—the man who has caused so many misery to his friends and to himself, the mastermind behind the mental breakdowns, Akechi's murderer—cannot walk free. Even with the change of heart, it just isn't enough for Akira; he wants, _wants_ to see Shido behind bars. After everything that has happened, Akira thinks he can be selfish, holding such grudge for Shido. He just wishes that one last time, he could see Akechi.

Then, a miracle happens.

"There's no need for that."

Akira's heart stutters at the impossible voice echoing behind him, and when those footsteps march towards their direction Akira is given a full view of Akechi Goro. Their eyes meet for a split second, but Goro soon tears his away to meet Sae's instead. "If they get their hands on the perpetrator instead, there'll be no reason for him to turn himself in, no?"

"Akechi?" Akira whispers, disbelief still threaded into his voice. "But... _how?_ " Because he heard that shutter go down, heard the sound of the gunshot tearing through the air.

Akechi gives him a full grin that's reminiscent to the ones that he used to give back in their dates, with only a slight hint of the venom that Akira now knows that he holds. "To think I'd get to see you so surprised... Honestly, it's pretty satisfying."

Akira snorts, because trust Akechi to turn something like this into a competition. But Akira truly understands now; they were not simply competing as detective and Phantom Thief, two people with an exceptional powers but as the only two wildcards in Tokyo right now.

"What do you mean... there's no need?" Sae's eyes are drawn together as she glares at Akechi.

Unbothered by her hostility, Akechi only smiles angelically at her. "Exactly as it sounds. I'll agree to testify against Shido and his crimes."

Complicit to the murders, it is natural that Akechi should serve jail time. He would also know more in detail about the sheer scale of Shido's conspiracy, having been an active participant within it. Yet Akira can't help himself from asking. "You're turning yourself in?"

"That's right. I have nothing to hide at this point. If I had to explain myself, I'd say it's simply personal principle that I repay my debts," Akechi waves it away, then at the look at Akira's face, he scrunches up. "Don't look at me like that, Kurusu, I'm not going to a _guillotine_ , you'll be able to visit me in prison once a while."

Akira glares at him. "Prison isn't that much a better alternative, you know."

That stupid faux-smile is still plastered on Akechi's face. "Better than you going to prison for a nonexistent crime, isn't it?"

Sae clears her throat, addressing Akechi. "For the time being, at least, I'll take your word that you'll cooperate with the investigation."

"That would save a _lot_ of time," Akechi replies.

With a hand to her temple, Sae sighs. "I'm sorry... You can forget everything I just told you. I'll take him in myself." And with that Sae signals Akechi to follow him, who, without a shred of resistance, steps forward to let her take him away.

"Wait," Akira steps in between the two before she can properly take Akechi away. " _Wait._ Can you just give us a day? Akechi clearly doesn't want to run away. Just this afternoon."

Akechi gawks at Akira like he can't possibly comprehend the words that he's hearing. Akira can't quite believe it himself either, but after almost losing Akechi once, he doesn't think he could let him disappear in front of his eyes again. What if this is their last meeting? Akira could never forgive himself. "Are you kidding me, Kurusu? Did you just forget the part where I tried to _murder you?_ "

"You died for me and my friends, so I think that cancels the murder attempt," he shrugs, earning an incredulous huff from the brunette. "Sae-san? I saved the _world_. Can't you give me this one afternoon?"

"You two...?" Sae blinks, then smiles softly. "If that's what you want, I can give you that, at the least. I want him at the station by 9PM."

"Yes, ma'am," Akechi drawls, shoving his two hands into his pockets. Then he rolls his eyes, heading towards the station. Akira gives a thankful smile towards Sae, and quickly follows the ex-detective's steps.

* * *

They find themselves in bed immediately after dinner and coffee. It's been converging to this all along, and the only reason Akira has chosen to feed Akechi dinner first instead of sleeping with him immediately after their bodies crossed the doors of Leblanc is because he wouldn't be able to eat properly in police custody. And Akechi is such a _bitch_ the entire time he's shoveled curry into his mouth, whining about how he's on a _schedule_ even though the time Sae-san has offered them is more than four hours away.

So Akira is unusually rough when he throws Akechi onto his bed and crawls above him. Akechi does not comment on it, if he notices—and Akira knows Akechi has noticed.

"I cannot _believe_ you," Akechi hisses as he's pressed into Akira's hard mattress. "It's Christmas Eve. Don't you have a girlfriend or a bunch of annoying friends to spend it with?"

"I'm spending it with the person I love, is that so wrong?" Akira murmurs, still too giddy from getting Akechi back from the dead to have it ruined by Akechi's petulance. "Problems?"

"God, stop being—like _that_." With that, Akechi waves towards Akira's general area. "You're disgusting. I should have taken Sae-san just take me."

Instead of a reply, he crashes his lips right into Akechi's own, silencing him with a soft _oomph_. Through sheer experience, their mouths slot together naturally, tongues finding their places easily in each other's cavity. Akira presses in harder than he usually does, the result being less a kiss and more a session of brutal tongue-fucking.

When they separate, there's a warm flush on Akechi's face, and he's breathing hoarsely already. The sight pleases something inside of Akira, so he reaches forward to nip at Akechi's bottom lip, making it bleed to a pretty shade of sanguine red.

"Happy?" Akechi replies petulantly, like Akira isn't sitting on his hard-on, and raises his hand to nudge his index against Akira's lips. Akira, on impetus, catches the leather between his teeth, drawing it away from Akechi's hands obscenely. Once they're completely separated, he drops the glove on his lap. Akechi, with amusement, brushes his other hand against Akira's mouth—this time by the wrist—and Akira repeats the process, while looking right into Akechi's eyes. He can see the way Akechi's breath stutters as Akira's teeth graze against the thin skin on his wrist, so close to the veins. When he finishes this task, this time removing the glove inside-out, he drops it on his lap to join the other one.

Once both his hands are bare, Akechi hastily undoes his pants to throw them away haphazardly, and Akira joins in the tasks of undressing. They continue to toss clothing after clothing until Akechi is only topped with a semi-transparent white shirt, and Akira is only wearing a loose T-shirt. "Ah," Akechi adds before pressing into his bad, "before I forget, take this."

Akira catches out of reflex when Akechi throws him something heavy and metallic, and when he properly looks down upon it he finds a _gun_. A real one, and not a model one, Akira can know from his experiences from infiltrating' Palaces and Mementos. It's slightly heavier—the weight of the capability to take one's life, even outside of the Metaverse—and Akira weighs it with his two hands then looks at Akechi like he is crazy. In retaliation, Akechi only shrugs. "There are no bullets in it. You can't kill me even if you tried, unless you crack open my skull with it. But you could do that with a lot of weapons, and just not a gun."

"Why are you giving me this?"

Akechi's eyes twinkle mischievously under the yellowed lights of Akira's attic. "Well, you asked me how good I was at gunplay before."

Akira splutters, hand almost slipping off the revolver. "Akechi, that was a _joke_."

"Well, you should take responsibilities for your words, Kurusu," Akechi states, before lowering his body so he is eye-level with the weapon. "And please. Don't tell me you haven't thought of it."

He has never put serious thought into it, but when Akechi closes the distance between the muzzle and his lips to curl his tongue around the metal, the thrill of danger is most definitely favorable, he decides. Even if the bullets aren't loaded, there's something extra lewd about Akechi's mouth enveloping such a deadly weapon, the weapon that had probably been aimed at Akira's weapon once, and the power high he gets goes straight to his dick.

Then Akira notices that Akechi is far too skilled at this.

"Did you seriously practice? Sucking a _gun?_ " Akira asks disbelievingly.

Akechi only raises his eyebrows—of course he has, because Akechi Goro is a _goddamn perfectionist_ —and swallows against the metal, letting the harsh edges dig into the soft skin inside of his mouth. His mouth curls knowingly around the deadly weapon, mimicking a smile around it. Instead of taking it deeper into his throat, Akechi pulls back, only to slam it back into his mouth, giving the barrel a thorough fellatio.

When Akechi pulls back, a spit trail connects his mouth to the silver tip of the weapon. Cutting it off with a quick lick of his lips, Akechi brings himself upwards until their noses are brushing together. "So how do you think?" And before Akira can reply, Akechi presses his right knee right into Akira's hard-on, earning a choked moan. "I see that you've enjoyed it."

"I'd prefer it if you were doing that to my cock, though," Akira confesses.

"Of course you do." Akechi takes the gun from Akira's hands and puts it on the top of his meticulously organized clothes. "Lube?" Akechi questions, and Akira pats under his pillows to find a half-used one. He drizzles it over his hands generously before throwing it to Akechi, who catches and does the same, reaching for his behind to stretch himself. Enjoying the view, Akira lies down on his bed and slicks his own cock up.

" _Stay still_ ," Akechi spits before positioning himself accordingly above Akira's cock, slowly sinking himself down until the entire length is buried inside of him, and sighs contently. Akira moans at the tightness around his cock, eyeing Akechi through his half-lidded eyes. Akechi drags himself thoroughly out before sitting back down, fully taking Akira's cock into his body, and repeats this once he gets a hang of it, moving in quick succession.

"You get off of something like this, even? Being used like this?" Akechi taunts between the bursts, hand finding themselves around Akira's throat.

"I'm not complaining as long as I'm getting laid," Akira says with his strained voice, snapping his hips up whenever Akechi sits down to dig even deeper into Akechi's open body. Akechi moans wantonly as he does, and speeds up even more that Akira struggles to keep up with the face.

It's Akechi that comes first, although it's only by milliseconds that Akira doesn't think it really counts. When Akechi comes, splattering come all over Akira's upper body and tightening his already tight body around Akira, Akira pulls him down to envelop him into his arms as he peaks simultaneously, making a mess of Akechi's insides.

* * *

When Akira wakes up, Akechi isn't there anymore. Akira lets out a wistful breath, clenching the spare pair of Akechi's right-hand gloves. One day, when they are no longer chained by society's many rules and repercussions, they'll meet each other again.

He is sure.

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts: i WAS gonna add the thirteenth chapter and wrap this up properly but my semester is literally decimating me rn and i needed a better distraction than p5 so i've. moved on. kinda. but i REALLY wanna write the last chapter (which involves gunplay, because i didn't get to do that on... rank 5 or whatever) so if i'm like a year late to the update that's why :)


End file.
